Shadow of the Wolf
by LadyDragon1316
Summary: Sharah the Wolf may dwell in the light of public eyes, but that doesn't mean she doesn't cast a shadow. In the Thieves Guild she will earn experience and respect and the notice of a particular gray-cowled thief. (Prequel to "Wolf of Cyrodiil") (rated for some mature themes and violence)
1. Welcome to the Waterfront

**As per Poll results, here is the story of Sharah the Wolf's time in the Thieves Guild. This is a single story progression, but I think it will seem like one-shots for a while. Actually, this was back-up material for my 'Wolf of Cyrodiil' story. I just got the idea to turn it into a story of its own and the voters agreed with me. I hope you like it.  
**

**For you new-comers, I recommend you head over and check out my 'Wolf of Cyrodiil' story, too.**

"I'm going to buy a house in the city."

Gladion looked up, "Why, when you have bed and board right here?"

Sharah looked over the table at him, "Because I'm tired of bunking around people for whom cleanliness is a matter of personal preference." There was a loud belch from down the table, followed by an explosion of laughter. Sharah jabbed a finger at them, "See what I mean? I'm not cut out for this long term. I need a place of my own. For privacy if nothing else."

The Arena Bloodworks was located beneath the Arena, hosted their combatants and all necessary living functions. There were barracks style sleeping conditions and cafeterias, one each for the Blue and Yellow teams. Sharah sat across at the table, conversing with her two training partners: Gladion, a Dunmer who preferred bow work and hand to hand, and Breni, a Breton who's large warhammer was likely an over-compensation for his short stature.

Breni let out a belch of his own, answering the one from down the table, and Sharah covered her face with her hand, "Why did I even sign up with you people?"

Gladion replied, "Same reason we all did. Easy money and the thrill of life and death. So where are you thinking about buying a place?"

"I already looked into it at the Office of Commerce. There's really only one available. It's a little house out on the Waterfront."

Gladion blanched, "You can't move out there."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a girl," Breni interjected.

Sharah sat back, "Of course I'm a girl. But what does that have to do with anything?"

Gladion shot his companion a look, then said, "I think what Breni means is that the folks down on the Waterfront are not…pleasant. There are thieves and pickpockets and pirates down there. And they won't hesitate to take advantage of you."

Sharah defended herself, "I've been on my own for over a year now. On the road, too. I think I can handle myself just fine. You have been watching me in the Arena, right?" If she could handle bandits and Yellow team combatants, she could handle a few thieves.

"No one's doubting you can fight. But you're…um…" Gladion actually blushed as he tried to find the words.

Breni gulped the rest of his beer and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, "I'll take it from here."

Gladion sighed gratefully, "Thanks."

The Breton pointed at Sharah and said, "You can't go to the Waterfront because you're a girl."

Gladion blanched again, "Breni—"

"Shut up. You asked for this." Then Breni turned back to Sharah, "And you look like a girl. And not just any girl, but a girly girl. I mean, look at you. You're this pretty little thing, you've got no street smarts. Anyone on the Waterfront is gonna look at you and think 'easy mark'. That's what they call them down there, you know. Marks. And you've got it written all over you. This pretty little farm-girl, fresh to the big city and way out of her league. You just got that look to you."

Gladion had his head buried in his arms, trying unsuccessfully to pretend he wasn't even there. But far from dissuading her, Sharah was only more determined to prove herself. That sort of stubbornness had been happening more often. When Sharah had first asked to join the Arena, the Blademaster had just about laughed her out of the Bloodworks. But her pride had made an appearance and Sharah hadn't budged. A few matches in the Arena and she had earned her place properly, proving that whatever she may look like she could handle herself when it counted. And now it was time to prove that again.

"Well, I don't care. I've got the coin, I'm tired of living with the constant smell of sweat, and I'm going to buy that house."

Following his little tough-truth routine, Breni had gone back to his mug and now let loose an even bigger belch than before. The sound was so deep and wet that Sharah almost gagged while plenty of others just burst out laughing.

"You're disgusting. Really, you are."

XXX

Two thousand gold. It was the largest amount of money Sharah had spent in her life. And it was certainly more gold than Sharah ever thought she'd have. Then again, when Sharah was planning out her adventures in her youth, those plans hadn't included the Arena, or so many profitable Ayleid ruins, or a wealthy Altmer sponsor with a taste for the ancient statuary Sharah kept coming across.

None the less, Sharah was only too happy to hand over the coin and accept the key to her new house and the deed of ownership. Sharah did make a point to bargain the woman over the counter into including some furnishings, which came to her in the form of a voucher for the Three Brothers Goods and Trade shop in the market district.

All business concluded, Sharah departed and walked from the Market District to the Arboretum District which was really a professional garden set within the Imperial City walls. Sharah walked the paths, trying to keep as calm and collected as she possibly could. Then, when she was certain no one was around to see her, she set off giggling and dancing and bouncing on the spot like a madwoman or a child.

She owned a house. She owned a house! She owned a HOUSE! A real house of her own. All hers! Sharah whipped out the deed of ownership, read it hungrily, then clutched it to her chest. The key received a glorious scrutiny before Sharah kissed the little scrap of metal. She was absolutely drunk off the giddy, spinning on the spot until she almost toppled. Her very own house. She had to see it. Before she went to turn in the voucher. She had to see it right now.

Sharah carefully folded the deed and tucked it and the key into her Arena Raiment. Then set off for the Waterfront. Sharah had to consciously keep herself from skipping along the way. In truth, Sharah hadn't had time to explore the entire Imperial City. It was just so big. She'd been to the Waterfront Docks a few times. But her house was apparently on the other side of the stone line of buildings, on the southwestern point of the shoreline.

Sharah walked down the tunnel out to the Waterfront. Then across the stone causeway that separated the port into halves and around the Lighthouse that jutted up at its center. The inner side of the Waterfront crescent functioned as the dock for all ships coming up the Niben, while the solid wall of buildings served as the warehouses that stored the goods and managed the trade. But it was the outer side of the crescent that Sharah was headed for. She passed through one of the stone archways that permitted passage from one side of the crescent to the other. In truth, she'd only been on this side once, and it had been the east end. So when Sharah came through the arch…she was a bit uncertain. Perhaps Gladion had had a point.

The Waterfront that most people referred to with such distaste…well, it seemed to be true to its reputation. There was a whole cluster of shacks all across the western half of the crescent, all of which were hidden from view by the mainland by the high wall of stone Waterfront buildings. Sharah wondered if they had been built like that intentionally, or if this shanty-town had been put here to be out of view.

Remembering all the talk, Sharah made a point to draw herself up and look confident. She didn't want to go walking in here like a…'mark'? Was that the word Gladion had used? Sharah adjusted her hips, being reassured by Chillrend's weight and walked into the true Waterfront.

The shacks were placed in fairly close quarters with dirt pathways between them, often barely wide enough for one person to pass. Even the main walkway through the town was narrow. The buildings were weathered and stained. Most were covered in patch jobs. There was trash in the streets, any people around were in shabby clothing and…oh, Gods, what had she just stepped in? No. No, she was not going to think about it. And certainly not going to touch it. She'd just ignore it for right now and give her boot a good scrubbing later.

Halfway through the Waterfront shantytown, Sharah realized she had no idea which one was supposed to be hers. She was just about to pull out her deed when she overheard a situation happening on the other side of the shacks to her right.

"Come on, baby. Me and the boys ain't gonna wait forever."

Sharah paused and took a step backward to look through the shacks. Four…the closest appropriate term would be 'pirates'…had a Bosmer woman cornered against the high stone wall, all of them with that vulgar, unpleasant look on their faces.

"Please, I'm not looking for any trouble."

"We ain't trouble, are we boys?"

The Bosmer woman tried to leave, but one of them grabbed her arm and yanked her back. Her shirt tore and she hit her head roughly on the wall as he closed in for something entirely unwanted.

Sharah felt the growl in her throat as she marched through the building toward them, "Hey! Get your hands off her!"

The men looked up, only a little surprised, and those vulgar looks returned quickly. "Well, lookie here. Another plaything."

'Plaything'? Sharah's face flushed, and not from embarrassment. Some words just lit her temper. Her voice dropped low, "Why don't you come over here, and we'll see who's the plaything."

The pirates took this as an invitation and two of them came toward her, one of them reaching for their belt. Sharah went at the closest with her fingers first. And straight for the eyes. She left bloody scratches down his face, then landed a solid knee strike to his groin. The second one grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her torso while the first one bent double cradling his scrotum. Sharah slammed a heel down on his foot, then kicked off and smashed her skull into his face. He let go and backed off with a yell holding his nose. Sharah unhooked Chillrend, scabbard and all before she went at the other two. The one by the Bosmer took the flat of Sharah's blade to his face before he could react, his buddy having gone to his companions' aid when she'd finished with her first onslaught.

Sharah placed herself between them and the Bosmer woman, hand on her hilt, now growling outright for no more reason than that they set her blood boiling. "Maybe I should have warned you. I tend to break my toys. Now get out of here before I decide to bleed you properly."

The quartet of pirates, a pair of them bloodied, looked between each other. Clearly they weren't so sure their 'fun' was worth getting further hurt by this rabid little woman. Once one of them started to take steps back toward the street, the other ones followed suit. Sharah stayed in her attack stance until they'd move out of view. Then she turned to the mer behind her, "Are you alright?"

The woman looked a little dazed, from either the fight or her hit to the wall. "Yes…thank you." Sharah could have sworn the woman sounded surprised that someone had come to her rescue.

Sharah's eyes caught the line of crimson that ran down from beneath the mer's hair. "You're hurt."

The mer reached up and brushed at the trail of blood. She stared at her red fingertips, "Oh…"

Sharah reached for her belt, "Here, let me…" She snatched a kerchief and one of the healing potions from her satchel, dampened the cloth and gently pressed it to the woman's head. The Bosmer was still a little out of it, so she didn't immediately brush off the help.

Sharah had whipped away the blood and cleaned the wound before the woman stood off the wall. "Thank you. I'm fine. I am…"

Sharah wasn't too convinced but didn't press. But when the woman looked around uncertainly, she did ask, "Can I walk you home?"

The Bosmer looked like her first instinct was to refuse. But then she glanced in the direction the pirates had gone and gave the barest nod of her head. Sharah followed the woman's lead as they walked through the shacks. At least the woman still seemed to know where she was going, although the encounter with those pirates still left her shaken.

The shack they ultimately came to was like the others, if a little larger. The mer needed a moment to get the door open and when she stepped inside Sharah heard something clatter and someone exclaim, "Adanrel, what happened?"

The woman tried to pull her torn sleeve back into place, "I…thought I'd walk home alone. I ran into…some people."

Two more Bosmer women appeared and pulled her further inside, leaving Sharah standing at the open door.

The blonde one urged her onto a humble stool, "We warned you about that. Especially when the Marie Elena is in port." She looked over at the brunette, "We have to talk to Armand. This happens every time they're in town. He has to do something."

The brunette harrumphed, "Like last time? He knows what they're like. The only way to change anything around here is from inside the—" She noticed Sharah in the doorway, "What are you doing here? Get out! You're not welcome."

The Bosmer Sharah had escorted home, Adanrel, said quickly, "No. She…she helped me. She made them stop. She fought them off."

The brunette looked at her friend in disbelief, "Her?" Then back at Sharah suspiciously, "So what are you doing _here_?" She looked Sharah up and down, doubtless recognizing the Arena Raiment and remaining utterly unimpressed.

Sharah tried not to let the look bother her, "I just wanted to help. And make sure she got home alright."

"Well, now she is. So why are you still here? I'm guessing you want some kind of reward for being such a hero?"

"No," Sharah said. "I'm not looking for anything like that. I just saw she was in trouble and wanted to help."

"Why?" the brunette demanded.

"Because she needed it. What other reason did I need?"

The brunette narrowed her eyes, clearly unwilling to believe Sharah hadn't done it for some selfish reason, "People don't just do things for people they don't know without wanting something."

Sharah shrugged, "Well, I do. I'm sorry that doesn't work for you." Since she was clearly not going to be welcomed in, Sharah turned to head down the street. She still needed to find which house was hers. Oh, wait. Sharah turned back to the doorway the brunette was in the process of closing, "Actually, there is something."

The brunette Bosmer got a smug look on her face, like she'd known this was what would happen. Sharah pulled out her deed of ownership, "Would you direct me to this address? I don't really know my way around here."

The cross woman glared at the document, then looked up, now seeming surprised as well as suspicious, "You bought a place down here?"

"Yes. What of it?" This mer was starting to rub her the wrong way.

"Nothing." Great, now she was back to looking smug, "It's down the path, that way. The building on the corner."

Sharah gave a little bow of appreciation. The door had snapped closed before she'd even turned all the way to the street. The brusque treatment was a little uncalled for, in her opinion. She had just wanted to help. It honestly hadn't been about any reward or recognition. Sharah breathed deeply as she walked away, letting the whole incident just brush off her. If they didn't want to concern themselves with her, she wouldn't make them.

She followed the dirt path through the shanty-town until she reached the far end. And there it was: the house on the corner. It stood off on its own, a wider divide between it and the shack to its right and a larger dirt path separating it from the building before it. There was a tree off behind, a small overhanging porch in front. And it did look a little small. But it was hers.

She took the key tucked into her Raiment and set it to the lock. The door clicked open and Sharah went in. It was…not impressive. Just one room. But it was hers, so that didn't matter. It was just enough for one person, and that was exactly what she wanted. It didn't smell like sweat and alcohol and blood, it didn't echo with outbursts of testosterone and excessively loud bodily functions.

It was small, quiet, and with a few additions it would be quite homey. Sharah checked the roof, the walls and the floors, and found no evidence of little crawling things and no holes. There was a thin layer of dust, but the hearth was solid, the single table was only a little wobbly, and the bed was clean. She'd have to remove the boards on the windows…although, maybe she'd wait a few days before deciding on that. The boarded windows might be more than precautionary.

Sharah stood in the center of the room and turned to take in the whole place. She turned once…twice…pretty soon she was just spinning. Spinning and grinning like a giddy little fool. She was standing in her house. Her house! She wouldn't be here often, fully expecting to continue her wanderings and work with her Fighters Guild. But when she was here, she'd call it home.

XXX

She didn't waste a moment. That very evening, Sharah transferred all of her possessions from her trunk in the Arena Bloodworks out to her little shack. That night, she slept in her own house and loved it. She was still giddy over owning her own house and was eager to be at the Three Brothers Goods and Trade the moment they opened. Which meant she woke up before dawn.

Sharah gathered herself together and left the house, locking the door carefully behind her. When she turned around, she spotted a Redguard man going toward the building next door. He looked over and met her eyes. It was an oddly intense look, sizing her up and making some judgments. But before Sharah could get uncomfortable, he bowed his head a little toward her. The gesture felt more…important than an average greeting. Like she'd passed some kind of test. Sharah returned the motion carefully. It seemed to satisfy him and he entered his house. Well…she'd just met her neighbor…sort of.

She was at Three Brothers Goods and Trade as soon as they unlocked their doors. The voucher got her a set of drawers and some shelves. She bought a couple stools, a chest, a cabinet, and a few little living things like dishware and a broom. All of which effectively depleted what remained of her gold. But it was worth it to furnish the place she would settle down in. The final step was arranging to have it all delivered later on.

By this time, she'd gotten an initial feel for the sorts of people that the Waterfront housed. And they seemed well-aware of her. By the time the movers showed up, Sharah was pretty sure she had something of an audience. They were being very discrete, but there were definitely people watching her. She felt like a child again, with all the other kids gathering to check out the new arrival.

Instinct told her not to show weakness. That she needed to look confident and at ease, not at all threatened by all the scrutiny. Like she absolutely belonged there. It kept her steady when the movers showed up, shuffling her things down the street in the cart. One of them had clearly not been to the Waterfront before. She was perfectly willing to let them drop her things on the front porch and let them scurry off the way they'd come.

That left Sharah the focus for all of those curious eyes. So, Sharah chose to make an impression. Acting as though no one were watching her, Sharah openly lifted and moved each item into her house. Her Arena Raiment left her arms exposed, and she willingly flexed them for all to see. The display was plain: she was here, she was staying and she was not to be taken lightly.

Sharah was turning her attention toward her drawers when one of the onlookers actually approached her, "Hello."

Sharah turned to him, "Hello."

He was Redguard, rather skinny and dressed in fishing waders, and had particularly long and slender fingers. "You're the one who helped Adanrel yesterday, right?"

"You know about that?"

The man grinned, "Word travels fast down here. I'm Jair."He extended his hand.

"Sharah," she replied, taking it and gripping hard. First impressions were important. "Would you give me just a moment, please?" Sharah put her hands on the underside of one of the drawers, grabbing the frame and lifting the entire hunk of wood onto her shoulder and carrying it inside.

Jair looked after her. "You need some help?" he asked.

"No, but thank you. It's not so much the weight as the reach." She set the drawers down and dusted off her hands. She was pleased when he had to blink a couple times, which meant he realized she was stronger than she looked.

"So, uh…you're an Arena combatant."

She nodded, "For now. I make my living in the Fighters Guild. Well, between the odd adventures." He blinked a couple more times. Sharah didn't know if she was pleased or a little disappointed. Certainly after all her training and experience she had to look a little like a fighter. "What about you?" she diverted, "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a dip," he replied. Sharah cocked her head quizzically. "A pickpocket," Jair clarified. Now it was Sharah's turn to blink a bit stupidly. He just…announced that without the slightest hesitation? They'd only just met and he just… 'I'm a pickpocket'. It took all her self-control not to reach to check her coinpurse, not that there was much left in it after her purchases, but still. Jair grinned, having seen something of a tell as to what was going through her head, "Relax. You're safe from me. After what you did to those pirates, I'd rather buy you a drink. Besides, you look like you might take offense. Too risky."

Sharah chuckled with him, but it was uneasy. She guessed it made sense. The Waterfront was full of very poor people. Certainly it was more likely that some of them would be criminals. It just felt weird standing here talking to a thief.

Jair watched her think. "You gonna turn me in?"

Sharah shook her head slowly. "Why? A person has to eat." And she killed things for a living, who was she to judge?

Jair actually grinned, "I like you. Since you look like you're getting cozy down here, let me give you a few words of advice."

"Sure," Sharah said.

"First, don't make waves around here. Although, I think that's pointless advice after yesterday. But at least you made the right kind of waves. But the second, don't stick your nose into anything down here. The Waterfront's got its own way of doing things."

Sharah replied, "Good things to know. Thank you. And I'm not trying to insert myself anywhere. I'm just looking for somewhere to call home."

Jair smiled, "Well, welcome to the Waterfront."

**Alright, I hope you like this. Leave your thoughts and opinions in the comments below.**


	2. Joining the Guild

**Update! Oh, and I'm accepting OC's for both of my Sharah the Wolf stories. Just for anyone who is interested.**

The more time Sharah spent on the Waterfront the better she understood what she had gotten into. And thank goodness she'd had no idea at the start, or she would have never set foot down here. The Waterfront District didn't just have a few criminals in residence. It was positively teeming with them. Once Sharah got the hang of the place, she saw pickpockets and back alley deals happening just about every day. The pirate ship had left port the day after she'd bought the house, so at least she was spared the piracy. But after a while, it was impossible not to see what was going on in her neighborhood.

Oddly enough, Sharah's defense of the Bosmer, Adanrel, had given her a positive reputation of sorts. And Jair had been right about word traveling fast down here. Right after her chat with Jair, it seemed she was counted as one of the District residence. Sharah suspected that was because she'd shown no intention of turning in the criminal who'd introduced himself. She might not be a criminal herself, but she wasn't rigidly lawful and let the criminal class do what they needed to get by.

Sharah actually understood where they were coming from. Not everyone could handle the Fighters Guild work or the dungeon diving like she could. Some of them had to steal to eat. And, as twisted as it seemed, Sharah figured there was always going to be criminal activity and the Waterfront seemed as acceptable a place as any for it to happen. So, why get worked up over it? The acceptance made her a full member of the Waterfront.

Not that it gave her immunity. Her third day living in the poor district, some kid tried to pickpocket her. Sharah caught him, just about breaking two of his fingers when she did. Sharah hadn't been pick-pocketed since. But a lesson was learned on both sides. They knew not to steal from her person. She knew her possessions weren't safe unless they were on her person. Which complicated things when her Ra Gada urge started itching.

Sharah was having drinks with Breni and Gladion at the Bloated Float celebrating her latest Arena victory. But her mind wasn't on the celebration, and she couldn't keep still.

Gladion watched her tapping finger, "What's got you so on edge? You won. I'm sure the Blademaster won't let Ingle try anything like that again. Just because she's Yellow Team Champion, doesn't mean he's gonna let her do whatever she wants. I mean, two opponents at once was just unfair. Not that you couldn't handle it. The way you separated them…that was ingenious. They never saw it coming."

Sharah kept tapping her finger on her mug, "Yeah, yeah. Thanks."

Breni said, "What is wrong with you?"

Sharah took a vice grip on her mug to keep still, "Neither of you is Redguard, so I'm pretty sure you won't understand. I'm just itching to get out of the city. But…I'm not so sure about leaving my things in my house."

The Dunmer shook a finger at her, "I warned you about thieves, didn't I?"

"It's not thieves I'm worried about," Sharah snapped. Well…it was. But if she lived on the Waterfront, then she had to play by Waterfront rules. That meant keeping all the criminality that she saw, to herself. "I'm just…thinking about my father's sword. I'm tired of lugging around two blades when I only use one. I don't want to stop using my father's blade, but Chillrend is a better fit for me overall. I'm trying to pick one to take with me…and this damned Ra Gada Urge isn't helping."

Breni coughed, "Raga-what?"

Sharah sighed, "Nevermind. Look, I gotta take a walk. Get some air. I'll see you guys later."

Being outside helped. But only so much. Subconsciously, Sharah knew she was still within city walls, still enclosed. It wasn't claustrophobia. Sharah actually didn't mind delving into caverns and wandering through close quarters. It was just this drive to go from one place to another. A drive that was going to give her some ungodly rash if she didn't do something soon.

But leaving her house…Sharah couldn't keep carrying her life on her back. It's part of why she bought the house in the first place. But if she left her father's sword behind and someone stole it while she was gone…It was all she had left of home. The sword wasn't anything special. Just a sharpened piece of steel. But it was more precious to her than its weight in gold. If it was lost to her…

The door to the Bloated Float opened and Isleif the Open-Handed stepped outside. He was one of the thieves she'd picked out on the Waterfront. In fact, he lived with Jair in the house directly in front of hers. Since they were her neighbors Sharah had made a point to stay on friendly terms with both of them. He was apparently very generous when it came to the poor and destitute. And he'd made it clear on several occasions that she was neither and would receive no handouts from him. Which meant she didn't know why he was walking toward her.

"Evening, Isleif. Something I can do for you?"

"I overheard you talking with your friends in there," he said.

So this was going to be a serious conversation. Sharah reassured him, "I'm not saying anything about the Waterfront to anyone. No one has to worry about that. It was just some personal issues. You're a Redguard. You've had the Ra Gada Urge before. That's all that was about."

Isleif glanced around discretely, "You're worried about that sword of yours getting stolen while you're out adventuring, right?"

Sharah sighed. Had her lie been so translucent? "Yeah, that's about it."

The thief took another, less discrete look around, "I told you that you weren't gonna get any handouts from me."

"On a few times, yes."

He lowered his voice, "Well, this isn't a handout. But if you want your house protected when you're not in it, then tomorrow night go to the Garden of Dareloth. Midnight. Talk to Armand Christophe."

"Armand Christophe…my other neighbor? Well, why don't I just go knock on his door?"

Isleif shook his head, "That's not how this works. You want to make a deal, you talk to Armand Christophe at midnight tomorrow, in the Garden. You do what he says and he'll fix you up."

Sharah replied, "Alright, Isleif. So where is this Garden?"

XXX

Sharah arrived in the Garden of Dareloth before the appointed time. And it seemed she was not to wait alone. Already in the Garden stood two people: a shabby looking Argonian, and the brunette Bosmer Sharah had met the other day. Her mood hadn't improved since their encounter. The moment the Bosmer saw Sharah, she turned up her nose with disdain and refused to make eye contact again.

She traded greetings with the Argonian, then looked for a place to set herself until Armand Christophe arrived. Actually, the top of that wall looked like a nice spot. Sharah decided she didn't much care about what these other two thought of her, so she took a hurried start and leapt up to grab the top of the wall. Then she pulled herself up the remainder of the way and settled on the top of the wall.

Wow…from up here, the whole Waterfront looked spread out in front of her. The rooftops of the shanty-town were all she could see, hiding the clutter and the dinginess beneath. The water of Lake Rumare glistened under the moons' light beyond the thatched houses. Sharah drew a knee up to her chest and leaned her back against the great wall behind her. It looked like the whole world was laid out before her toes. Enough for her Ra Gada Urge to let up for a bit.

Not much later, the bobbing light of a torch could be made out reflecting against the shacks and climbing up the Waterfront's stone rib. The other two present stood up eagerly, and even Sharah looked toward the Garden's entrance in expectation. Sure enough, Armand Christophe entered the walled off little enclosure in which they had gathered.

That was the man who'd met her eyes that first morning she'd left her shack. He seemed more in his element here, though. He looked at each one of them in turn, his eyes passing from the Argonian, to Sharah, to the Bosmer without any indication that he hadn't expected each one of them.

Sharah shifted around and let her legs dangle off the inside of the wall. Now, she supposed, they'd begin their business. Sharah had seen some of those back alley deals going down. But, per Waterfront rules, she turned her head and pretended not to have seen. She never thought she'd be involved in one though. But this would be worth it. After her latest win and earnings at the Arena, Sharah had resisted buying some wall-hangings for her home in anticipation of this. She didn't know how much coin Armand would demand for her house's protection. Such payments might not be all that worth it right now with her house virtually empty, but as she accumulated possessions it would be worth it to have some good will built up with…whatever she was getting into.

Armand looked between them once more, "Alright, everyone is here. We can begin. Each of you is seeking admittance to the Thieves Guild."

The darkness must have hid Sharah's widened eyes. Wait, what? A guild for Thieves? Was that why the Waterfront had its own rules? She could tell there was some organization to it all but an actual guild?

Armand continued, "The Thieves Guild is not a myth. We are followers of the Gray Fox and I am his Doyen. The guild is not for just anyone. If you earn membership you will be expected to follow the rules. But you'll reap the benefits as well. But merely by being here, you've passed the first test."

Sharah was reeling. A Thieves Guild? The Gray Fox? That was the man on all the wanted posters she'd seen around town. And he had a following? And what test? The other two weren't even fazed by all this. Like they'd completely expected to hear everything the man was saying. While Sharah had been caught completely off guard. She'd really stepped in it this time.

Sharah dropped off the wall, "Um, Armand? I think there's been some kind of mistake. I'm not here to join any guild." By the way everyone else stiffened, that was perhaps the wrong thing to say.

Armand's expression darkened, "Then why are you here?"

Sharah insisted, "I'm just here to make a deal. I want to protect my house from break-ins and Isleif said I should come here tonight."

The Bosmer laughed, "I knew it. She's no thief. Look at what she's done while down here. She makes her living killing things."

Sharah ignored the mer and continued to address Armand, "I'm really sorry about the mix-up. I can come back another time."

The Bosmer continued to sneer, "Why don't you just clear out of the Waterfront entirely? You don't belong here."

Sharah's pride and temper perked, "None of this was directed at you, tree-climber. But if you've something to say, the up and say it."

The woman set hands on her hips in a defiant pose, "Fine. You don't have what it takes to make it as a thief. You're just a mark. And a pathetic one at that because you don't even realize it."

Sharah jabbed a finger at her, "I am no mark. I could handle myself just fine. I choose not to. And for your information, I don't just kill _things_ for a living. I kill _people_. Care to test me?"

"Typical Redguard," the Bosmer scoffed, "Falling back on a sword when you haven't the skill for anything else. Why don't you _literally_ fall back on it next time, and do us all a favor?"

"Why don't you pull the leaves out of your ears and hear this. I'd make a better thief than you. If you can call yourself a thief, it can't possibly be that difficult." This woman was just rubbing her against the grain.

"I think I've heard enough," Armand interrupted the women's glaring match. "If Isleif sent you here, then you're in the right place. Members of the Thieves Guild are forbidden from stealing from one another. And the guild looks out for each other's homes. Especially here on the Waterfront. As a member, everything you owned would be protected."

The Bosmer blanched, "You can't really think she'd make it in the guild. Just look at her!"

Sharah snapped, "I'm right here."

"You couldn't steal a sweetroll from a child."

"I could out-steal your sorry-Bosmer-butt any day of the week." Sharah was hardly paying attention to what was coming out of her mouth. She could just not stand this woman.

"Then it's decided," Armand interrupted again, "Instead of a normal test of skill, I'm going to make this a contest."

The Argonian, who had had no part in any of this up until now, was distressed as he spoke up, "But, that's not fair."

Sharah and the Bosmer continued to glare at each other. "Fine." "That works for me."

Armand nodded at the agreement, "I will choose an item. The first to bring it to me will earn the right to join the Thieves Guild. You cannot kill the mark. And you cannot kill each other."

The last seemed to be directed to Sharah in particular. Sharah snorted at the insinuation that she'd even do it, but nodded. Armand didn't seem convinced, "Why don't you two make nice before we start. We can start with proper introductions."

Both women were resistant but ultimately clasped hands.

"Methredhel."

"Sharah."

"Thief."

"Adventurer."

"Steel-slinger!"

"Squirrel!"

"And Amusei," the Argonian piped in. He fell silent when the women glowered at him.

Armand shook his head, but moved on, "Before I give you your target, you should know that the beggars can be an invaluable source of information. They are called the eyes and ears of the Gray Fox for good reason. But keep in mind, they won't tell you much for free. And I can sell you lockpicks if you need them."

Methredhel fidgeted, "What's the target?!"

Armand replied, "Your target is the diary of…Amantius Allectus."

Methredhel shot Sharah a glance, "I'll have it before sunrise." The mer took off with Sharah close behind.

The run gave Sharah's mind enough time to catch up with her. What in Oblivion had she just done!? She was trying to join the Thieves Guild? What had she been thinking? She hadn't been thinking. That was it. All she had been thinking about was one-uping that Wood Elf with an attitude. Damn her pride!

She wasn't a thief. Whatever had irked Sharah, Methredhel had been absolutely right. She wasn't a thief. Sure she preferred to avoid being seen when she was wandering through ruins and caves, and she did prefer to get the drop on enemies when she could, and she'd spent enough time picking locks when she found abandoned treasure troves and the like. But actual thievery? That was something else entirely. And yet here she was, racing to win membership into an underworld guild based around the act. And losing. Damn, if that Bosmer wasn't part deer. Sharah put on an extra burst of speed and ran after her. Even if it was exceptionally stupid, some things you just had to carry through.

Sharah lost track of Methredhel quickly. It took some time and a few coins to a beggar to find the house of Amantius Allectus. And when she did…the door was already unlocked. So Methredhel was already inside. And possibly already gone. Sharah only had her hand on the knob. She could still walk away. Just…pretend this never happened. A whirl of pros and cons fluttered through her mind. Then she turned the door-knob and slipped into the house. She was such an idiot.

The house was dark, and there was no one in sight. Rather than berate herself for breaking and entering, Sharah began looking around for where the man might store his diary. She was already inside, might as well look. The first place she tried was the desk over by the basement stairway. Even being in here, she wanted to refrain from going upstairs to where the people probably were or as long as possible.

She was going through the drawers when someone hissed at her. Sharah turned around to see Methredhel standing by the door. The Bosmer grinned devilishly and flaunted the book she held in her hands. Sharah was shocked, then furious. But before she could make a move, Methredhel reached out and tipped a pot off of a table and darted out the door. Time slowed as the pot fell, with the final shattering breaking any spell of quiet that had held sway on the night.

Immediately there was movement upstairs. Damn, damn, damn! Sharah didn't think she could make it to the door, so she ducked into the basement to her right. Divines and Daedra, she was an idiot. What good was her pride going to do her behind bars? She was Fighters Guild. Not a thief. And she needed to get out of here.

She hurried down the stairs and looked around for something. Anything. A window she could slip out of, or at least somewhere to hide. The whole place smelled oddly like the Bloodworks, and there were gardening supplies everywhere. But Sharah focused on the sewer grate. Kneeling beside it, she heard the gentle trickle of running water beneath. The opening was small and the grate was kind of heavy, but she managed to heave it open and drop down, letting the thing clank back into place behind her. Then Sharah was speeding off through the sewers, fumbling her way through and looking for a way out.

Her path eventually let out at a large sewer opening outside the city…with the Waterfront in view. Sharah grumbled to herself. She. Was. An. Idiot. What made her think this was a good idea? Oh, right, she hadn't been thinking. She was such a little idiot. Sharah waded right into Lake Rumare and swam across the port to the sandy crescent. She didn't want to be seen coming back, and the swim would wash off the grime and slime from the sewers.

It did little for her self-esteem, though. By the time Sharah got to the beach on the other side, she felt utterly humiliated and hated that she'd even made the attempt to join the guild of thieves. She was a warrior. And she'd certainly been taught a lesson.

Sharah passed Puny Ancus, the beggar on the Waterfront, on her way home. "Good morning, kind lady."

Oh, damn. In all the excitement, she'd forgotten. Sharah had taken to bringing him a loaf of bread every day on her way home from the main city. "I…I'm sorry, Puny. I forgot. It's been a long night. Will a few coins do instead?" He got that same bright look that most beggars got when offered coin. Sharah dropped three of four into his hand. "You are most generous, good lady. What makes such a generous lady so unhappy?"

Sharah shrugged it off, "Oh, I just…lost a competition. I probably shouldn't even have tried."

It was at that moment that Methredhel chose to come around the corner ahead of them. She saw Sharah, still damp and wrinkled, and could not resist rubbing her face in it a little more, "So you got away, huh? Don't bother showing up again. I'll be in the guild before moonrise." The mer went sauntering off down the path while Sharah glared at her back.

Puny piped up, "You tried to join the Thieves Guild?"

Sharah glanced at him. She really should be surprised that he knew about it. "Yeah. I tried. And was effectively trounced."

Puny fingered the coins carefully, "You know, I saw Armand leave the Garden of Dareloth right after that Argonian. Won't be reachable all day by anyone. He usually insists on leaving a full day between meetings in the Garden."

Sharah sighed, "So Methredhel will have to wait until tonight before they let her in." She froze on the spot as a spark lit in her mind. "She has to wait until tonight…Puny, did you see her carrying a book?"

He shook his head, "I didn't see her carrying anything at al."

Sharah smiled, "And, you wouldn't happen to know where Methredhel might hide something that was very important to her, would you?"

Puny grinned, "I might know that she has a very good lock on her chest at home."

And Sharah knew exactly where that was. Sharah planted a kiss right on Puny's forehead, "Puny, you're fantastic!" Then she bolted for her house with newfound energy. Methredhel wasn't in the Thieves Guild yet, which meant she was a mark herself. And with that diary still in play, Sharah still had a chance to win. The question now was: was she good enough to steal from a thief?

XXX

Armand returned to the Garden of Dareloth at midnight the following night. Amusei looked dejected. Sharah sat expressionless atop the wall watching Methredhel pace around the Garden. The mer occasionally shot a glare at both of her competitors, but they were all silent as they waited.

The moment he appeared, Methredhel rushed forward, "Armand. I…you have to understand. I had the diary. I took it right out of his bedroom. But I just…It's not my fault. I hid it away. I just can't find it now."

Armand waved her of, "The rules are: the one who brings me the diary gets into the guild. If you don't have it, you don't get in."

"But I did have it," she insisted. "Just give me another day. I'll find it."

"You mean this?" Sharah broke her silence on the wall. When Methredhel turned Sharah lifted the diary into view, mimicking Methredhel's snide expression and flaunting motion from the previous night.

The Bosmer fumed, "You! You stole that from me, you…THIEF!"

Sharah grinned and dropped to the ground, "Why, Methredhel, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Sharah yanked the book away when Methredhel grabbed for it, the handed it to Armand Christophe, "Interesting read. No wonder his basement smelled funny."

Armand accepted the volume while Methredhel said, "That's not fair. She couldn't steal it from Amantius. She cheated. She's not even a real thief."

Sharah giggled, "Are you really trying to argue fairness?"

Armand thumbed through the pages, "She's right. Rules are rules. She brought me the diary, she wins." He closed the diary with a snap, "Sharah, welcome to the Thieves Guild. The rest of you can leave."

Amusei and Methredhel filed out, but not before the Bosmer shot Sharah another death glare. When they had gone, Sharah's smugness mellowed. "You're going to give her another shot to join, right?"

Armand asked, "Why should I? She couldn't pass the test."

Sharah said, "She was the one who stole the diary from the house. She just made a mistake on where she hid it. Nothing more. And she'll learn from it. Besides, I'm not really a thief."

"You stole the diary from her. I'd say that makes you a thief," he pointed out.

"Just because I can steal things, doesn't make me a thief. And I only did this to get my house protected. I have no intention of being active in your guild. I don't mean I don't appreciate the membership. But I'm Fighters Guild first. I always will be. She'll be more useful to you than I will."

Armand considered, "I'll think about it. For now, you're in." He reached into his pocket and handed her a couple of beads, "Take these. Most members string them on the leather thong of their coin purse. But put them where ever you want. It marks you as part of the guild. As long as you have these on you, no thief will touch you. And as for you house, consider it protected from this night on. The guild takes care of its own, and we don't let freelance thieves operate in this town."

He explained a little more about the Gray Fox and the guild and a few rules before letting her go. None of them seemed like a problem to follow. And she really didn't think she'd need any help with bounties, or have to worry about killing people on guild jobs.

Deep down, Sharah really hoped Methredhel got her shot at membership soon. She'd kind of spoiled it for the woman.

For now, Sharah needed to make plans for heading south. There was a guild member who did hand to hand training in Bravil, and Sharah had never been to Leyawiin before. With all her time in the Arena and the Imperial City, she was starting to miss the Fighters Guild. It was time to get back to the work and Guild that really mattered to her.

**In the guild! Next chapter will introduce a character that...well...you'll see. He's pretty important in this story. Please take a minute to review.**


	3. The Good Captain

**I think most of my Wolf of Cyrodiil readers are keeping up with this one. Good show! As per the title of this chapter, let's see how you like the good captain.**

**Still accepting OC's by the way. Just saying.  
**

The Imperial City was just the same after two months. Not even the Waterfront looked changed. Then again, it was dark, so Sharah couldn't really see much detail. Well the last two months had been…well, something. She went to Bravil, intending to train in hand to hand with the Khajiit guild-head, Nahsi. But, as seemed the usual for Sharah, she got sidetracked on an adventure. The Forlorn Watchman. She'd intended to use him to try and get over her issue with the undead. It didn't work. All the way from the spirit to the haunted shipwreck to the shackled skeleton in the brig it had been one undead nightmare after another. Ugh, she was never going to get used to them. Sharah had found another Ayleid statue for Umbacano. The Altmer collector just loved these old statues, and regularly paid her handsomely for lugging them back to the capital for him.

Then there'd been that fun little excursion in Leyawiin. That called for another 'ugh'. She'd thought the undead were bad. But they had nothing on Countess Alessia Caro. Pure, snooty, over-empowered, full-of-herself noble. And a racist. Which was ironic considering she was countess of a city that was half populated by beast folk. Sharah had narrowly avoided becoming a knight of the city. Well…she was a knight-errant, but only because the count had flexed a portion of his nearly nonexistent backbone. It was clear to everyone who rules in Leyawiin, and she was a noble pain in the arse. Sharah may not have been stuck serving the knighthood down there, but she had been roped into bodyguard duty for the Countess when she went to visit her mother, the Countess of Chorrol. The moment the Countess Caro had been within the castle walls, though, Sharah had bolted. She was going to watch how often she was in Leyawiin from now on. And avoid that countess at every opportunity.

Now it was back to the Imperial City. She'd turn in the Ayleid statue to Umbacano, try out a few new moves in the Arena, then back out on the road. This time she'd head for Skingrad. Then Anvil. Maybe even brave that long incline up to Kvatch. The Fighters Guild up there was very, very small. Mostly because they were hardly needed. Sharah blamed the city's location. It was kind of hard to need the help of Fighters when you were a city set on a high hilltop with a Count and city guard that kept on top of everything.

Sharah opted to walk the beach half of the Waterfront crescent on her way to her shack. The moon on the water and the sound of the waves was immensely calming. She didn't see anyone in the shanty-town tonight. Just empty dirt paths between the shacks. Which was fine with her. Sharah wondered if Armand had kept his promise about her home. If her father's sword was where she'd left it.

And as she walked homeward wondering, a shadow came streaking around a corner and blew past her, so fast Sharah wondered if she'd actually seen anything at all. She looked after it, but there was really nothing to see. After a wasted moment trying to pick something out of the darkness, she turned back to her path toward home…just in time for another figure to come bolting around the same corner and a shiny steel cuirass to smack into her. Hard.

Sharah toppled backward, landing right on the Ayleid statuary in her pack with a yell.

"Halt!"

What kind of idiot…? She wasn't going anywhere down here? It felt like she'd broken her back on the thing. Had she broken her back? It felt like it. Damn, that hurt! And her head didn't feel so great either after making its acquaintance with the steel. She was normally much more coordinated than this.

"Where is he?" her assailant demanded. His tone told her guard. His armor told her captain. And his expression told her he was royally ticked off.

Sharah rolled over with a groan and started to get to her feet. The guard captain seized her arm and dragged her to her feet. And none too gently. "Where is he?" he demanded again, right in her ear.

Sharah winced at her various hurts, "He who?"

He shook her fiercely and growled, "The Gray Fox. Where is he? I know he came this way. I saw him."

Sharah rubbed at her forehead where he'd hit her, "Well, I didn't. Now would you let go of me?"

His grip tightened, "You're not going anywhere. The Gray Fox came this way and you're going to tell me where or I'll have you arrested."

"For what?" she demanded, "I didn't do anything."

The guard captain sneered, "Typical. All you low-lives covering for each other. I know you're game."

Low-life? It wasn't as disagreeable a term as 'plaything', but it sparked her temper all the same. Sharah jerked her arm out of his grasp, "I'm not covering for anyone. I didn't see anything because there was nothing there! And you're calling me a 'low-life'? I'll have you know I am Fighters Guild and a Knight-Errant of the White Stallion." Maybe that title wasn't so bad after all. "Is that low life enough for you? And I don't appreciate being profiled based on where I live. Especially by a man who just slammed into me for no reason. I've half a mind to complain to your superior."

He gave a smug smile, "Oh, will you?"

She growled, "Yeah, I will. I'm sure they'd be interested to know there's a jerk of a captain wandering the streets, accusing honest citizens without cause. And keep this in mind: I've gotten a city Guard Captain canned for misuse of his authority. I'm not scared of you just because you wear a fancy set of armor."

His face was impossible to read. But she doubted his pause was for fear of her complaint. He took an account of her, then said irritable, "Then move along, _citizen_."

Sharah straightened her leather cuirass indignantly, "Thank you." She skirted the captain and continued her way down the street. A half dozen steps away, she tuned back to him and called, "And next time you go crashing into someone like that, start with an apology…Captain Jerk!"

That last little outburst made her feel better. Although it probably did absolutely nothing for her relationship with the man. Well, she'd had good experiences with guards in the past. Maybe it was just time to start adding to the other side of the column.

XXX

Sharah and her two Arena comrades were back down at the Bloated Float. The Float was just the same as it always was: mostly populated by the sorts of people you scraped off the edges of descent society. This time their celebration was for Gladion. He'd been set up against a tough Altmer. Sharah had watched the whole fight, cheering her head off the entire time. There's been no shortage of close calls, and that made it all the more important to live it up afterward.

Sharah put her bottle to her lips when a familiar face walked into the Float. She choked on her mead and doubled over to hide her face while coughing as that jerk of a Watch Captain and some Captain Companion walked in.

Gladion pounded her on the back until she got her breath back. "Damn, it's that Captain Jerk," she hissed, ducking behind the Dunmer to avoid being seen.

Gladion looked over at the officers, "Which one?"

She peaked out from behind his shoulder, still keeping him between her and the Captains' view, "The blonde one."

"Oh, Hieronymus Lex. Maybe he won't recognize you."

"Yeah, right," she said, "I threatened to report him for bad behavior. I'm pretty sure he'll remember."

Breni grinned, his eyes hazy from four swiftly downed beers, "Well, let's see." He threw hand up, "Hey, Captain Jerk!"

Sharah kicked the drunken Breton bard beneath the table, but the Captain in question had already spotted the group. And her. Oh, yes. He remembered her. And even worse, the two officers were now walking toward them.

She kept her eyes on her bottle until the mass of captain armor was in her peripheral vision and she felt his eyes on her crown. His companion was the one to speak first, "Hail citizens. I hope we find you well."

Breni held his latest beer aloft, "Very well, in fact, Captain Jer—Ow!" Sharah's second kick cut him off.

Gladion motioned to the other chairs, "Would you care to join us, captains? Ow!" Sharah glared at him. Her toe was going to be sore tomorrow if this kept up.

The other captain replied, "Well, I don't think—"

Captain Hieronymus Lex interrupted, "We're not on duty, Servatius. I believe we will, thank you."

The captains sat down and a bottle of wine was brought for them. Breni was exceptionally talkative given his consumption, Gladion and Captain Servatius kept the conversation civil. Sharah, however, kept her mouth shut and her eyes on her bottle. There were a few people who brought out her snide side. Methredhel, for certain. And apparently, Captain Lex was one as well. And she'd been through enough alcohol tonight that she was not going to risk going off on a Captain of the Imperial Watch. It just screamed 'bad idea'.

After about ten minutes she had just about emptied her second mead while maintaining her silence. It probably wasn't such a good idea to keep drinking in the sort of situation where she wanted to stay in control of her tongue.

She glanced up, just to get a better look at the man, and found him watching her. Sharah felt her face heat up and she swallowed the last of her drink. A few minutes later, she looked again and he still had his eyes on her. That was it! "What? What?!" she snapped, cutting off whatever conversation was happening at the table.

Captain Lex played innocent, "I don't know what you mean."

She pointed a finger at him, "You're staring at me. And you've got this look in your eye like you're just waiting for an excuse."

"An excuse to do what?" he asked.

She threw up her hands, "I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

He leaned forward, "Perhaps I'm watching you because you look like you're about to snap and hurt someone."

"Because you're staring at me," Sharah retorted.

"Then I won't anymore."

"Good."

She didn't relax, and he didn't look away.

"You're still staring," she said.

"No, now I'm just looking," Captain Lex said.

She growled.

Captain Servantius glanced between the two of them, "Is there something going on here?"

Gladion clarified, "They've met before."

"Ah."

"And not on good terms," Sharah growled, still glaring at Captain Lex.

"That was not my doing."

"You slammed into me."

"I was chasing a criminal," he defended.

"And then accused me of covering for them," she said.

"You threatened to report me and have me canned."

"Because of your unfounded accusation. And I did not threaten to can you."

"No?"

"No. I told you I got another Captain canned. That was it," Sharah clarified.

"It certainly sounded like a threat," Captain Lex said.

"Well, it wasn't."

"I apologized, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't," Sharah said, "I told you that you ought to. But you never actually did."

"Because you were so anxious to be on your way."

"Well, I'm here now."

"Fine, then. I apologize for running into you."

"Good. I accept your apology."

"Good."

"Fine."

They seemed to have squabbled themselves out, at least for a while.

Gladion just sat there smiling. "What's wrong with you?!" Sharah demanded.

He shrugged, "Just enjoying the show."

Breni sniggered, "Your face is so red." Sharah's face heated further and he started cracking up. "And getting redder!" Sharah growled and kicked at him under the table.

"Ow!" Captain Servantius yelped.

She grimaced, "Sorry. That was meant for him," and she jerked her head toward the Breton who was just about to fall off his chair.

Gladion chuckled, "Your face is very red."

Sharah glared at him, smiling wickedly, "Well, then, Gladiator. You get to drag Mr. Happy back to the Bloodworks all on your own."

Sharah spun off her seat while Gladion begged plaintively after her as she stalked toward the door. Why did this have to happen to her?

She was out on the stone Waterfront walk when Captain Lex caught up with her, "Hang on, there."

"What do you want now?" she snapped.

The Captain narrowed his eyes, "I apologized. Why do you still insist on being angry with me?"

She replied snidely, "As a woman, I am permitted to hold onto a grudge as long as I care to. It's the unwritten rule." Or so her mother had joked periodically.

"But I did apologize."

"And I accepted. So next time we meet, we can be civil. But for now, I'm still mad at you."

"For no reason at all," Captain Lex argued.

She smirked, "Isn't it frustrating when someone acts difficult for no reason?"

Captain Lex did not challenge her jab. But for whatever reason, he felt the need to clear up their disagreement here and now, "You are right. I behaved badly and rushed to judgment. As a captain of the Imperial Watch, I should know better. I apologize for accusing you of wrongdoing. My accusations were unfounded and unjust." His sincerity caught her off guard. Especially after their squabble inside.

She groaned, "Well, since we're apologizing…I'm sorry for calling you Captain Jerk." Even if _that_ accusation has been founded. But she managed not to say that last bit out loud.

"Let's start over," he said, extending his hand, "Hieronymus Lex, Captain of the Imperial Watch."

Sharah clasped his hand in return, "Sharah. Fighters Guild and…career adventurer."

"I'm pleased to meet you. May I walk you to your home?"

Sharah wanted to say that the only escort she needed was her blade. "What about your friend?" she asked, glancing back toward the float.

"Captain Quintilius needs no keeper."

Well, he'd made an effort to be courteous so she had no excuse for at least not trying to do the same. She shrugged, "Do what you want." He took that as an invitation and they headed down the cobbled street of the Waterfront.

After a time spent walking in silence, Captain Lex asked, "So, what unlucky guard Captain incited your wrath enough that you canned him?"

"Arrested, actually. And it was Ulrich Leland in Cheydinhal. He was stealing from the city coffers and oppressing the citizens to the point where it got a man killed. I just helped expose him. Garrus did the rest," Sharah said.

"You mean Captain Darelliun?" Lex asked.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Hm," he said thoughtfully.

They walked a little further before he spoke again, "So would you consider yourself a good citizen?"

Sharah chuckled, "I spill blood for a living. I think 'good' would be a relative term. But I follow the rules, if that's what you're asking."

"Then would you be willing to help me with something?" the captain asked.

Sharah eyed him, "Depends on what that is."

"Why do you live on the Waterfront?"

Sharah shrugged at the apparent change in topic, "It was the only thing available that I could afford. And it got me out of the Bloodworks."

"And you don't worry about the neighborhood?"

She shrugged again, "It's not a nice place. But no one bothers me, so I don't worry."

Lex said, "The Waterfront is a center for crime in the Imperial City. All the worst villains and lawbreakers do their…business from here. And the Thieves Guild runs it all."

Sharah didn't miss a beat, "There's a Guild for thieves?"

Lex nodded, "I've been looking for a way to shut them down for years. But they know how to cover their tracks. And that Gray Fox is always one step ahead of me."

"So there is a Gray Fox?" Sharah asked.

He looked at her carefully, trying to judge something, "You don't believe me?"

She shook her head, "It's not that I don't. It's just…A thief guild, the Gray Fox. I mean, I've seen all the posters. But half the people I talk to think he's a myth, and the rest are terrified he's going to steal everything they have. And a thief guild. I've never even heard of that." Her eyes widened, "And I bought a house down here!"

Captain Lex reassured her, "If they haven't done anything yet, they have at least accepted your presence. It could turn into an advantage."

She laughed, "Living among a bunch of thieves? Yeah, right."

He replied, "What it means is, you might be able to help me deal with them."

"How so?" Sharah asked.

"The Empire and most of the Watch is content to leave the Waterfront out of sight and mind. But I am not." He turned to her, "If you see anything suspicious around the Waterfront, people meeting or anything that doesn't seem right, I want you to come and tell me about it."

Sharah crossed her arms, "So, you aren't walking me home as a gentleman. This was just a chance to ask me to spy on my neighbors." She waved him off before he could reply, "Don't. Look, I'm on the Waterfront sporadically at best. But I certainly don't want anybody threatening my home. So, if I see anything that doesn't look right, I will tell you. I promise." Her answer seemed to satisfy him.

He walked her all the way to her front door. As Sharah took out her key, Captain Lex glanced next door where Armand Christophe lived, "You live here?"

The lock clicked and she pushed the door open, "Yeah. Why?"

He kept looking at her neighbor's house, then back at her, "Nothing you need to worry about. Just watch yourself. And if you see anything—"

"You'll be the first one I tell. Thanks for the escort, Captain. Have a good evening." Sharah went inside and closed the door.

She unhooked her belt and tossed it and everything attached on the table, then dropped onto her bed. Well, that had gone well. A conversation with a dedicated Captain of the Watch about the Thieves Guild and she hadn't blown open the fact that she was technically a member. Sharah pulled herself vertical long enough to remove her Arena Raiment and pull on a robe for bed. But before she could follow through to sleep there came a knock at her door. Sharah answered to find Armand Christophe on her porch.

"Can I help you?"

He held out three coins to her. She looked at it questioningly, "What's that?"

"Your taxes."

Sharah raised an eyebrow, "And?"

He explained, "I'm returning the taxes you paid to the city. I'm doing it for everyone on the Waterfront and you're included."

She didn't take the coins. "Why? I thought everyone paid taxes."

Armand sighed, "You really don't know how it works around here, do you? The city has traditionally not collected taxes from the Waterfront because everyone…almost everyone living here is very poor. Lex actually collected taxes from the Waterfront. I think it was an attempt to draw out the Gray Fox."

She glanced at the coins, "So, you feel the need to reimburse the Waterfront?" That certainly shouldn't have applied to her. A three coin tax was like plucking a hair from her head. It hardly made a difference to her. But, for the poor, a few coins could mean a day without food.

Armand gave a roguish smile, "While you were out on your romantic stroll with the good captain, we snuck into his office and recovered the taxes."

Sharah's eyes narrowed but she kept her mouth shut. Right. She'd forgotten. Don't do anything on the Waterfront unless you want everyone to know about it…within the hour.

The Doyen kept his eyes on her, "Did you tell him anything about the Guild?"

"No," she said firmly, "Although, apparently I'm supposed to be watching for anything that looks suspicious."

"Hm," Armand said thoughtfully, then offered her the coins again.

She waved them away, "Keep 'em. I don't need money from the Guild. Use it for something that matters. Night." She inclined her head, not wanting to be rude, and closed the door on him.

The offering of the coins had been as meaningful as her refusal to take them. It was less about the sum, which they both knew was miniscule in regards to her, and more about each of them establishing something to the other. Armand offered the coin to her just like he would for everyone else on the Waterfront. Sharah refused to take the money, knowing she had no need of it when others did. Maybe Sharah should have felt more aggravated that she'd been used by the Guild to achieve its end, but there was no point.

Sure enough, the next day the Black Horse Courier carried a story on the taxing of the Waterfront and the gold stolen from the guard tower that equaled the amount collected. Lex didn't ask her about it, so Sharah just brushed the incident off. After all, what call would he have to suspect her involvement? She'd been with him the whole time.

Well, things weren't any more or less complicated than they'd been the other day. At least she was on speaking terms with the Captain and the Guild. If this was the worst it got, she'd be able to handle it.

**There are days when I think I'm sooooo funny. The day I wrote this was one of them. I hope you liked it. Leave a review if you did.**


	4. Busted

**I was so long not updating and now I've hit both my stories in one day. I think I'm earning my way back into the good graces of my readership. Please enjoy this next edition.**

Sharah sighed as she entered her shack. Another return from another whirlwind of adventure. When she flopped down on her bed, a light layer of dust leapt into the air and set Sharah coughing. Damn, how long had she been away? Sharah stood up, shoving her pack aside with her foot and tossed the door open to get some fresh air. She was greeted with the sight she'd witnessed on entering the Waterfront: a mass of guards running hither and thither, and to and fro. They were moving between the shacks, peeking into little hidey-holes, and were just about everywhere. It seemed like half the city's watch was out on the Waterfront, and all of them asking the same question of anyone they met: "Where is Armand Christophe?"

Sharah had seen them at his house already so she didn't think she was going against the Thieves Guild by telling them he lived next door to her. Of course that little bit of information was followed by a flurry of questions about when she'd last seen him and where he was hiding. The answer to which was an honest 'not for months' and 'I have no idea'.

And now she had a dusty bed to deal with. Sharah gathered her blanket up, trying to keep as much dust contained as possible, and went outside to shake it. That probably meant her dishware would have to be cleaned as well. Good thing she'd thought to store most of it upside-down. But the table and chairs called for a brisk wipe-down before she went about sitting on anything. Even leather pants would show a dusty-butt.

Once shaken clean, Sharah brought it back in, closed out the running of the guards, and went to work cleaning up a little. While she did it, Sharah tried to account for what she'd been doing since being here last. Hm…goblin hunting in Skingrad, that little run-in with the Daedric Prince Meridia, the gang of sirens in Anvil, finally some hand-to-hand training in Bravil, and that freaky wakeful dream at the Bravil Mages Guild. Hm…had she forgotten anything? Maybe she should start keeping a journal.

Oh, and of course her first real heist. Sharah giggled just recalling it. She couldn't believe she'd actually done it. If Meridia hadn't been generous with her gift Sharah wouldn't have dared. But since the Daedra had, Sharah did. The woman giggled again. Oh, the look on that man's face. Priceless. And well worth it even if she never got around to picking up and fencing that loot.

Her fond recollection was interrupted by a sound from the corner of her house. Sharah froze. Then, slow and steady as she could manage, Sharah pulled her dagger out and eased toward the noise. Something was definitely shifting, too big to be a rat. And under the floor. And since most of that was stone, only the small section of wood along the west wall could possibly hide whatever was there.

Sharah eased closer, careful not to make a sound, and scrutinized the entire floor. Had something gotten under her house? Now that she was looking, there seemed almost to be a seam within the wood. Sharah lowered down, following the seam with her eyes and realizing it was more than just random. Reaching forward soundlessly, she slipped a finger into a knot in the wood. Then she yanked the trap-door open. Someone below let out a sound and Sharah threw herself into the hole, catching whomever it was off guard where they had been hiding. They went tumbling to the ground, struggling with one another until Sharah came out on top brandishing her weapon against the intruder. Methredhel cried out as she was pinned to the ground under a blade.

"Methredhel? What in Oblivion are you doing here?"

The Bosmer groaned at Sharah's weight on her chest, "I needed a place to hide. This wasn't my first choice, believe me. Get off me already!"

Sharah got up, already taking more interest in the room than her apparent house guest. It seemed her shack had another level. A basement. It was nearly the size of her house up above, built sturdy beneath the apparent stone floor. It was dark, stacked with crates and boxes. There was a small table, space for a bedroll against the wall. The small wooden section of floor in the house above provided an entrance that was almost perfectly concealed upon it being shut. And there was what looked like a door up out of the back of her house. How had she not known about this?

Methredhel snorted as she noticed Sharah looking around, answering the confusion in Sharah's mind, "This was once a thief's house. There's always a back entrance."

Sharah looked closer at the said entrance. Maybe there was a way to lock it, or put a spell on it. Sharah wasn't so sure she wanted fugitives dropping in here all the time to hide out. Although this did look the place to do that sort of thing.

She turned back to Methredhel, "Why do you need a place to hide?"

The mer looked at her as though she were looking at a half-wit, "Didn't you see those search teams? I can't be seen out there right now. No one can."

"But they're looking for Armand. What does that have to do with you?"

Methredhel replied, "They're only looking for him because they think he stole a bust."

"What bust?" Sharah asked

"The bust of Llathasa Indarys," she answered irritably.

"Hm," Sharah mused, "I didn't think Doyens did jobs. And I would have figured he'd be more careful."

Methredhel snapped, "He didn't steal the bust. I did!" And she pulled a well sized stone head from her pack on the floor and slammed it down on the table. Methredhel rubbed her forehead anxiously, the guild beads she'd woven into her hair swinging freely. She spoke mostly to herself, "My first big job for the guild and I end up putting the whole Waterfront in Lex's vice. By the time I got back, they were already looking for Armand. And I found out there wasn't even a client for this. Armand just used me to flush out an informant that was in the Thieves Guild."

"Informant? Who?"

Methredhel looked up angrily, "Myvryna Arano. She's been reporting to Captain Lex on the guild's activities. Giving him ammunition against us. Now Armand is in hiding, the whole Waterfront is shut down, and I can't show my face outside with this bust. Everyone's probably going to blame me for this."

Even if she didn't particularly like Methredhel, Sharah still pitied the woman. She'd apparently put a lot of work into getting into the Thieves Guild and now her first job was turning out horribly. Well, Sharah was a member of the Thieves Guild. Perhaps she should do something to fix this…

"Where does this Myvryna Arano live?"

"A few houses down the lane. The one with the daisies out front," Methredhel said offhand, doubtless trying to think of a way to salvage this.

Sharah came over to the table, "Give me the bust."

The mer's eyes flashed, "Why?"

"You may not be able to show your face outside, but I can. So give me the bust."

Methredhel snapped, "I don't need anyone to save my ass. Especially not you."

Sharah replied, "I'm not saving your ass, I'm saving the Guild's. So are you going to let me, or do I get to tell the soldiers there's a strange elf hiding under my house."

Methredhel scowled while Sharah smirked. But the bust landed in her hand a moment later. As Sharah went for the ladder up to the trap door, Methredhel asked, "So what are you going to do, anyway?"

Sharah looked back, "Kill two birds with one stone head."

Upstairs, Sharah tucked the bust into the bottom of her day pack. She left the shack and dodged the regular flow of searching guards. She was stopped less seriously this time, displayed her guild patch and was permitted to continue uninterrupted. She bought some fish at the dock, as well as some produce that had just come up the river. Then she headed home through the center archway of the stone Waterfront spine.

She walked through the Waterfront shacks, fingering a ring in her pocket. It was a simple move to disappear really. Stepping through one of the narrow passages between shacks where there was no vantage point from which to see her, Sharah slipped on the Ring of Khajiiti and came out the other side almost completely concealed. And right by the house of the Thieves Guild mole.

The Skeleton key of the Daedric Prince Nocturnal made an appearance here. Rather than fiddle with lock-picks, Sharah inserted the daedric artifact. The mechanism had a life of its own in its little picks and metal prongs. She felt it whirling and clicking as it explored the lock and until the mechanism opened. A swift movement to open and slip inside and Sharah was able to enter without anyone taking note.

Myvryna Arano did not live alone it seemed, but the feminine touches pointed to which side of the building was hers. Sharah dug the bust out of her bag, wrapped it in a cloth from Myvryna's drawer and tucked it back into her cabinet behind the dishware and cookery. Sharah slipped out the door again between passing patrols and used the same move as before, removing the Ring of Khajiiti while between buildings to reappear in the public eye. She didn't dare call that the easy part, but this next bit might prove tricky.

She hitched her bag up on her shoulder, now considerably lighter thanks to the bust's removal, and walked homeward while looking for the man in charge. Sure enough, Captain Hieronymus Lex was right in the middle of it all, directing the searches from on site. Of course he was. He wouldn't trust anyone else to direct the searches, and didn't seem the type to sit back in his office and wait for word.

When Sharah made to approach, one of his Lieutenants stopped her, "Halt. State your business."

Sharah leaned around him and pointed, "I'm here to talk to him."

Captain Lex dismissed the man and stepped toward her, "It is good to see you again. But we're in the middle of a situation."

She replied, "Well, you told me to come talk to you if I saw anything suspicious."

"And?"

"Well, I heard you were looking for someone who stole a bust. I think I might have seen someone with it," she offered.

The Captain perked up, "Who? Where did you see him?"

"Not a him. It was a woman. And she took it into a house down the street," Sharah said, pointing down the direction she'd come.

"Show me," Captain Lex insisted. Sharah nodded and led him down the path with a few of his guards who had heard the conversation falling into formation behind him.

When they were in sight of the house, Sharah pointed it out, "She took it in that one there."

Captain Lex looked carefully at the house, then at her, "Are you sure?"

"The bust was about this big, right?" and she cupped her hands around as though carrying the stone head again, "And it looked pretty heavy, like stone. But I did see her take it in there. I don't know though, it could have been a helmet or something. Have you looked in there yet?"

One of the guards answered, "No, we haven't searched that house yet."

Captain Lex glared the man into silence, then persisted, "Are you absolutely certain?"

Sharah shook her head, "Not really. She had it wrapped up. But she was being…sneaky about it. Trying to keep it hidden and looking a little edgy. That's what caught my attention. I'm just telling you what I saw, like you asked. If it's not worth it to check out, that's your call."

The Captain couldn't afford to overlook a lead like this in front of his men, even if it directed him toward his informant's house. "Alright, we'll check it out. But you'd better come too. For…identification purposes."

Sharah looked uncertainly at her bag, then back down the street toward home, apparently weighing the options. Then she sighed and hooked her bag more securely over her shoulder so she could better reach the hilt of her sword, which her hand then dropped to automatically. Captain Lex eyed the gesture and Sharah quickly let go. "Sorry. Force of habit. Lead on."

Captain Lex led the guards and Sharah to the house and forced the door open wide. They filed in and began searching the premises. Sharah followed them inside, but tried to stay out of the way. In the middle of their inspection, a Dunmer appeared in the doorway, "What are you doing!?"

Sharah saw a flash of recognition when Captain Lex turned to her, but he hid it well. "You are accused of hiding the stolen bust of Llathasa Indarys."

"That's ridiculous. I would never—"

"Captain!"

Lex walked over to the guard who had been searching the cabinet. He looked in and then back at Sharah, "Can you remember what the object looked like when you saw it?"

Sharah nodded, "The size I showed. And it was wrapped in a dingy blue cloth. Or something like it."

Lex pulled out the wrapped bust and drew away the cloth she'd concealed it in to reveal the prize. Immediately the guards had Myvryna by the arms.

She shrieked, "What? Unhand me!"

Captain Lex held the bust out, "You have been hiding the bust of Llathasa Indarys. I have sufficient evidence here to arrest you for the theft."

She jerked against the hold of her captors, "That's ridiculous. I've never seen that before in my life!"

Captain Lex indicated Sharah, "This citizen saw you bring the bust into your home. What more proof do I need?"

Myvryna glared at the woman, "You fool! She's a member of the Thieves Guild. She's got to be. You're just exposing me."

Captain Lex said, "Unless you have proof of your accusation, I'll hear nothing further. Take her away."

The guards removed the struggling Dunmer from the home while she screamed, "You can't do this! I've been loyal. Loyal!" She continued shrieking all the way down the street.

Sharah watched her go but noticed Captain Lex looking at her intently. She folded her arms, "You've got that 'Captain Jerk' look about you again."

He averted his eyes. "My apologies. This was an unfortunate turn of events."

"Why? You found the bust," Sharah pointed out.

The Captain nodded, "But…she was my informant here on the Waterfront."

"Oh," Sharah said sympathetically, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He shook his head, "Don't be. I knew I couldn't trust a thief for long. You've been of great help."

He patted her on the back and Sharah flinched away, dropping her bag in the process. She waved him off when Lex tried to apologize, "Not your fault. A few of my bruises are still a little tender. There's a hand to hand teacher in my guild in Bravil. And she doesn't pull her punches. I'll be fine in another week or so." Sharah did let him help return her foodstuffs to the bag, "Again, sorry about your informant gone crooked."

Captain Lex handed her bag to her, "You couldn't have known. I'm glad there's at least one person down here I can depend on."

They parted on amiable terms and Sharah headed home again, noticing that the number of guards on the street had already decreased. Once inside, she locked the door before going to open the trap one to her newfound downstairs.

Methredhel stood quickly, "So? What did you do?"

Sharah replied as she came down the ladder, "I framed Myvryna for your theft and got her arrested. Things should be back to normal around here before too long."

Methredhel was some level of astonished. Either that Sharah had pulled it off or that she'd actually done it at all. Her face twisted and she avoided looking at Sharah. "Thanks." The word must have tasted bitter on her tongue because she rounded on the fighter and said, "But don't think this means I owe you or anything. And don't think this makes us friends."

Sharah tossed up her hands in surrender, "Of course not. In that case, I'd appreciate you hiding somewhere else next time. Or I might go screaming into the street about the giant squirrel hiding out in my basement." She wouldn't, of course. But it was fun to see that distaste on Methredhel's face anyway.

**Update accomplished! Hope you liked it. Leave a comment before you leave.**


	5. Stealing the Town

***fhew* That was a finger workout. Two chapters in one day. We're making good progress on this story. Hope you like it.**

Sharah dropped out of the saddle and stretched her back until it cracked and she let out a sigh of relief. She'd been riding for so long and her rear end felt completely numb. A woman at the Chestnut Handy Stables took her horse to stable it, as well as a few gold coins, and Sharah walked through the gates into the Imperial City.

Sharah the Wolf. Sharah the Wolf. Who in Oblivion had come up with that rubbish? She still hadn't found out. Sharah had heard the nickname first in Chorrol. She'd tracked it to Anvil, then Bravil, then Cheydinhal. At that point, just about all her guildmates were calling her it and Sharah had just given up trying to find the source. Her ass was numb and sore, she was exhausted from all the incessant riding, and she could not get people to stop calling her 'Wolf' no matter what she tried. Sharah knew when to call it quits.

Sharah the Wolf. Stupid nickname. How could anyone look at her and think that? Sharah half thought it was someone making fun of her. But none of her guildmates saw humor in the name. They called her Wolf candidly. Well, perhaps she'd grow into it. Since she wasn't going to be getting rid of it any time soon. At this point all she wanted to do was go to her shack and sleep off her travels.

But not before turning in another Ayleid statue to Lord Umbacano. This one she'd actually gone searching for, using the Arcane University's library to research the locations she'd already found statues at in order to pinpoint other likely locations. She'd talked her way through the door last time she was in the city and her time in the books was well spent it seemed. The library they had was awe-inspiring. Really, Sharah had stayed a few days more just to read her way across a few of the stacks. Then her Ra Gada urge had kicked her out the door, and then that Sharah the Wolf hunt.

With a heavy bag of gold in her bag, Sharah headed for the Waterfront. She got an intense feeling of déjà vu upon arrival. Guards patrolled every street, every corner, walking the paths, cobbled or dirt. But this time they didn't seem to be looking for anyone. They were simply on patrol. The calm of their regular movements only gave Sharah more cause to consider things. Had Methredhel stolen a count's underpants this time…while he was still in them?

They didn't trouble Sharah, so she went home and dropped her excess gold in her chest. There was no one hiding in her basement, which…might be a good sign. Sharah really couldn't be certain. But she was too tired to worry much and slept away the remainder of the day and through the night.

The next morning she was up early, a little groggy from so many hours spent abed but a good jump in the lake woke her up the rest of the way. Once cleaned and dried and dressed, Sharah headed into the city. She'd have breakfast at one of the inns rather than eat her own simple cooking. She had the gold for it anyway. She wanted to repair her weaponry, then maybe buy something superfluous. Like a dress. That thought alone kept her laughing all the way to the Temple District. A dress? She hadn't worn a dress since she was twelve. And wasn't bloody likely to do it again.

Within city walls, someone came up behind her, "Sharah."

She turned around to look at the speaker, but didn't recognize the Imperial woman with the dark, intense brow. Then again, she met so many people on her travels it was difficult to remember them all.

"I'm Dynari Amnis," the woman said.

Sharah blinked but still couldn't make a connection between the woman and herself. Then the woman touched her coin purse pointedly. Sharah glanced down and saw some familiar beading on the thong of her purse.

"Oh. Sorry, I keep forgetting. Something I can do for you?"

Dynari kept her voice low, "We need you to meet us at my house tonight, after dark."

"Why? Who's 'we'?"

"The Guild," she hissed, "Didn't you see the Waterfront? We need to meet. Will you come?"

Sharah sighed. She hardly did any work for the Thieves Guild. Her last bit had been that 'bust' business. She hadn't even stolen anything since then, or dealt with the fences or anything with the guild at all. And yet she was still apparently counted among them. Perhaps that was a good thing, though, considering her shack remained untouched.

"Sure. Where do you live?"

Dynari gave her directions and slipped away, probably to deliver more summons. Sharah sighed again. She'd spend the morning doing her own thing, then go back home and try to get a nap in. Chances were this was going to be a long night.

XXX

Sharah arrived at Dynari's home after dark and was admitted and directed into the main room. The place was crowded. Every chair in the house had been crammed in and yet there were still people standing. They were from all walks of life, too. Most were middle-class to those more well-off who probably lived around the city. Very few were poor folk from the Waterfront. But to those who paid attention, it was easy to see what they all had in common: nimble fingers, twitchy eyes that caught anything that flashed. A den of thieves.

Sharah giggled loud enough to attract some looks. Literally, someone's den full of thieves. She giggled louder. The looks she was getting weren't just at her apparent in appropriate response to the seriousness of their meeting. Plenty of them were doubtless wondering who the stranger was who was seen drawing blood in public but little encountered within the Thieves Guild. Sharah pointedly ignored all eyes directed toward her and slipped across the room and dropped herself on the stair upward.

Their meeting started of its own volition with no firm leader, and yet a single topic: Hieronymus Lex's 'raid' on the Waterfront. While it did little to affect Sharah, since she wasn't an active member of the Guild, apparently it was putting a serious strain on the Guild's regular activities.

"We can't do business like this. Lex has pulled soldiers from all over the city. Our transporters won't come near our regular drop sites. We can't move any of our products. And with all the guards, even petty thievery and fencing is going to be impossible."

"Where's Armand?"

"He's under house arrest. With guards posted at his door. He's unreachable by any means."

"What if we moved where we do business? Move it down the coast, or to another district?"

A Dunmer in fine clothes spoke from his seat, "Our system took years, decades to arrange. We can't just start over. Besides, how would we get anything out of the city?"

"We could use the sewers," a young Waterfronter offered, "There's an entrance right down the coast from the Waterfront."

"And right in view of the new patrols, you fool."

A Breton smuggler type said, "I've had word from my contacts. The whole underworld has put an indefinite ban on any business with the Thieves Guild here in the city. In or out."

"Something has to be done."

Methredhel stood up and took command like a professional, "S'Krivva has tasked me with resolving this situation."

"Then why didn't you speak up before?" someone demanded.

The Bosmer didn't flinch, "I think I've come up with a plan that will force the guards out of the Waterfront and back to their posts."

Everyone was immediately attentive. "Well, let's hear it."

Methredhel leaned on the table, "If we orchestrate five heists around the city, all at the same time, and all at places where the guards have been pulled, then hopefully it will force the Captain to reassign his watchmen."

"Hopefully?" a Shadowfoot asked.

"If the thefts are high enough profile, then it's sure to work," Methredhel insisted.

Dynari asked, "So what are our targets?"

"The Imperial Legion Compound, the Temple, the Office of Imperial Commerce, the Palace Repository, and the Arcane University."

Someone whistled in appreciation, "Those are some very ambitious targets."

"I know," Methredhel replied, "But we have to hit all five and put as much pressure on the guard as possible."

The discussion became open. They talked targets and methods. There was a member inside the Imperial Legion compound who could help, a prisoner who actually stayed in the facility just for kicks. Someone else, who had worked in the Palace, offered his expertise on reaching the repository. Items were designated and assigned, but when the discussion reached the Arcane University, suddenly tongues were tied and people were looking anywhere but at Methredhel.

She looked around desperately, "The Arcane University is a key to this. The mages have a lot of pull with the guard. They train their own battlemages. If they demand the guard back, all the others will follow their example."

"It's bad enough you want to steal from mages. But what exactly would be the target?"

"Hrormir's Icestaff," she replied.

The entire room blanched, "Hrormir's Icestaff?! The Archmage's pride and joy that he keeps displayed only ever in his private chambers in the topmost room of the Wizard's Tower? That Icestaff?"

"Yes. This item is pivotal. It has to be taken."

"But you're talking about the Arch-mage himself. Lightning and fire and ice and who knows what else if the thief is caught."

"I know. This plan will work. But it will only work if all the targets are hit. Especially the University. Besides, the Guild has had an eye on that staff for a while."

A retired Dunmer member replied, "Yes, but no one's been crazy enough to chance taking on a facility full of wizards to get it."

Sharah, having kept her peace up until this point, growled, "Oh, for goodness sake. You're all being a bunch of babies. I'll get the damned thing!"

A few member actually jumped, having just about forgotten she was there, "You?"

"Yeah, me. You think I'm here for decoration? I'll get the staff."

Methredhel said, "Are you sure? The wizards won't hesitate to kill you if they catch you."

Sharah cocked her head, "Are you trying to talk me out of it now? I've been inside the University. I think the only issue would be getting back out unseen. And no guards means no problem. So, like I said, I'll get it."

That finished the discussion, although more people were looking Sharah's way now. And she couldn't figure if it was out of newfound respect, or because they thought she was mad.

"Then it's settled. Tomorrow night, we hit all our targets between one and five. Bring all the items back here before morning. And be careful."

XXX

"There's no way she did it."

"Keep quiet!"

"Do you think we can get away with two out of five?"

"Shhhh!"

"She's still got two more hours. Give her time."

"She never should have been a member. She's an Arena combatant. Some kind of warrior-hero type."

"I've heard she's on a first name basis with all the city guard captains."

"Shut up!"

"I'm just saying it was too ambitious a target. If she got caught—"

"If who got caught?"

Those present jumped and whirled to see Sharah, leaning against the wall as though she'd been there for an hour.

Methredhel's eyes stayed wide, "How did you…?"

Sharah jerked her head toward the basement door, "Sewer grate downstairs. A little smelly, but out of sight…What?"

Methredhel shook whatever thoughts out of her mind, "Did you get it?"

Sharah grinned and pulled a staff sized mass off her back. It was wrapped in dark cloth and practically invisible in the shadows, "Yeah, I got it." Sharah drew the covering away to reveal her prize and laid the glassy Icestaff on the table beside the other two items. It glimmered and glowed, drawing every eye to its brilliance.

Sharah looked to the other prizes, "So we've still got two out?"

Methredhel shook her head, "The Repository and the Office of Commerce were busts. But these three should do the trick. Now we just have to wait."

"Although," Another thief ventured, "It would help to know what's happening on the Waterfront. Maybe someone should go down there and spy on Captain Lex. So we know when the powers that be pull the plug on his siege."

Everyone present gradually turned to look at Sharah. She yanked up straight, "What?!"

A Bosmer lock expert said, "He does know you. He wouldn't suspect a thing. And we can't send anyone else without risking them."

Sharah grumbled unhappily, even though the argument was sound, "I have a few conversations with the guy and suddenly I get to be his keeper. Wonderful."

XXX

Sharah entered her house through the back door and dozed until it was properly light outside. When she walked out of her home, it seemed for all the world like she had been there all night. Which was only too good, as Captain Lex was surveying his achievement within view of her front door.

Sharah approached, "Morning, Captain. Why are you still here?"

He glanced over at her, looking pleased with himself, "I'll get him his time. There's no doubt about that."

Sharah took a closer look at his face. There were dark rings around his eyes. She couldn't help the concern that snuck into her voice, "Have you been out all night?"

He nodded with a smile, "Since the night before last. This is my finest work. The Waterfront is closed for 'business'. Too much scrutiny even to litter. Before long, someone will come forward with information on the Gray Fox. And then I'll have him."

Sharah wasn't sure how to react to this. The idea was sound, the execution complete, and she'd no doubt it would have worked given enough time. But she also knew that it was only a matter of time until the Guild's actions from tonight put a hole in it. And even for all the difficulty he had caused the Thieves Guild, Sharah couldn't' help but feel sorry for the man.

He was dedicated to the law, absolutely driven to stamp out crime for the safety and security of the citizens. And he didn't do it for glory or recognition. He did it because it was right to him. And beneath the tired eyes, she saw how young he was. Less than thirty. He was vibrant, driven, dedicated, virtuous. Qualities that had rocketed him to the rank of Captain of the Watch in the Imperial City.

But his career was stained by his obsession with the capture of the Gray Fox. An admirable goal for a man of the law. If only his quarry wasn't' believed to be a myth by half the population. It turned his noble cause into a permanent black mark on his record. And in his moment of triumph, she was going to lend to the crumbling of his carefully laid plans. Poor man.

Before she could think of anything to say, Sharah spotted the approach of a figure and her hand leapt to the hilt of her blade. His skin was the color of volcanic ash and was covered in intricate tattoos in the color of blazing fire. He was the size and strength of a powerful orc, but had the fine angular features of a high bred Altmer. His body was doubtless sculpted to perfection beneath the heavy armor he carried with ease and two graceful horns rose from his thick black hair. And even if she couldn't see from this distance, she knew his eyes glowed from some internal hellish light while his teeth were pointed. Most would consider this creature beautiful by appearance. But there was more than just this appearance to consider.

The armor said it all: cruelly spiked for all its glory. Red veins like blood ran within the black metal. His smile would be cruel, and behind the eyes lay an equally unforgiving persona developed from thousands of years of immortality that taught him to believe that any life beyond his kin was weak and worthless.

But what truly had her and everyone else on edge, the thing that made coexistence a chore at best, was his aura. The very air around him was heavy and emanated…not a power, but an essence of something…else. There was no way to describe the feeling around one of these creatures. Only that it made her skin crawl. And she wasn't the only one. As the creature passed, soldiers froze and made the sign of the Divines upon their chest: a diamond sealed by a clenched fist at its center. Even the Waterfront's stray dogs scattered at its approach. Daedra.

Sharah knew better than to seek help from the Divines. She felt better looking to the blade on her belt, which was now firmly gripped in her hand. A grip that was getting tighter with each step the Daedra took in her direction. For whatever reason, the creatures of Oblivion and the beings of Mundus were not quite right together.

For the most part, Sharah hated Daedra. They were arrogant, haughty and strong. They came in all shapes in sizes and types, from mindless beasts to the fighting elite to the Princes who ruled their fellows and controlled the realms of Oblivion. Oddly enough, she could stand the Princes just fine, although she couldn't understand why. Perhaps because the Princes rarely actually manifested in Mundus. Even her contact with them was more of a disembodied voice and the echo of their aura.

This one was a Churl by the look of him, one of the warriors of Mehrunes Dagon or Molag Bal or something. Sharah had fought a few when she'd come across a rogue band of conjurers turned to daedra worship. They'd summoned the daedra to fight for them. Sharah had elected to kill the summoner rather than fight the summoned.

The daedra headed straight for her and Sharah felt herself grow taut, ready for a fight. But as he approached, she saw his eyes were not on her, but on the man beside her. This only made her more anxious. She'd be Oblivion bound before she let this daedra hurt anyone, least of all the good Captain.

Hieronymus Lex sensed the approaching daedra like everyone else, and out of the corner of her eye Sharah saw its presence affecting him. As the daedra got close, it reached for its belt to draw something out. She was drawn so taut that Sharah yanked Chillrend free of its sheath at the motion. The daedra sneered and handed the piece of parchment in its hand to Captain Lex.

"Be gone, mortal," it said, its tone at once superior, disgruntled and bored. It spoke like it drank lava on a regular basis, but the sound reverberated in her bones.

There was no fear in her eyes. Not a trace. She'd kill the daedra if it so much as sneezed. But the creature just dismissed her and turned back the way it had come. Sharah kept her eyes on its retreating back until the daedra vanished back into whatever realm he'd been summoned from and the crawling of her skin faded away. Damn, she hated daedra!

Next to her, Captain Lex's whispered words brought her out of her attentive loathing, "No, they can't…"

Sharah shook away the last remnants of the daedra's presence, "Captain Lex, what is it?"

He crumpled the message in his fist, forcing control while he fought out the words, "Men! We are to resume regular patrols. Everyone is to return to their regular postings at once." The lieutenants within hearing distance moved slowly to comply, going to issue the order to their soldiers.

Sharah spoke softly, "Captain Lex?"

He whispered under his breath, "I had him. I was so close…"

She reached out and touched his shoulder, "Hieronymus?"

Lex threw down the note and stalked toward the docks, rage written in his every movement. Sharah jammed Chillrend back into its sheath and picked up the note. Sure enough, Raminus Polus, a Mages Guild Master-Wizard, had accused the Captain of dereliction of duty for removing the guards from the University. It even threatened to bring him up on formal charges for his pursuit of the Gray Fox if all guards were not returned immediately. Sending it by daedra instead of foot messenger was just an added insult. Which would explain the daedra's attitude, having to deliver a message to a mortal for a mortal. Exactly what Methredhel had wanted, and Lex's worst nightmare.

This was the closest he'd gotten to the Fox. And after a disappointment like this, he was likely to do something he'd regret. She still liked the man. Better he not be alone to do whatever he was intending to do next. Sharah shoved the note in her pocket and took off after him.

Hieronymus Lex went straight to the Bloated Float. By the time Sharah got inside after him, he had an open bottle of wine in his hand and was swallowing in great gulps. Sharah couldn't watch him do it. Without even thinking, Sharah whipped out her sword and smashed the bottle, sending the contents splattering to the floor before any more could reach his mouth.

Lex dropped the rest of the bottle and rounded on her, "What do you think you're doing?!"

"I'm helping you," she retorted, "I'm not gonna let you drink yourself under the table over this."

He glowered down at her, "I could have you arrested for assaulting an officer."

Sharah remained calm, speaking without inflection, "If it would make you feel better, then go ahead." He glared, less angry at her than at everyone else. Sharah looked him right in the eye, "I know what you're going through. I've been there. You think you've got everything figured out. You think you've got a handle on how your life is going to work. And just when everything is supposed to fall into place, it falls apart and it feels like you're left with nothing. Am I right?"

The Captain said nothing, but he deflated just a bit. Sharah continued, trying to be gentle, "Hieronymus, you have to trust me. This is going to be raw for a while. But it is going to fade. You just have to hang on and be patient. And drinking is not going to help. You need rest. Come on, Hieronymus, let me walk you home." Lex looked at her oddly before bobbing his head obediently. He was exhausted. He needed sleep.

Sharah tossed a few coins on the table before escorting him out the door. They walked together quietly, his feet just sort of carrying him along without much guidance. Poor man. It was like his life was over. She'd felt it before. At least, for him, no one had died to bring him to this. At least he wouldn't have nightmares that woke him up at all hours in a cold sweat and tears. At least he'd be able to move on and get some peace after a while.

When they reached the door of the South Watchtower, Sharah gripped his shoulder, "Just get some sleep. Let the Fox have another day of freedom and rest up. Or you'll be no good to anyone."

He nodded automatically and went inside. She really hoped he'd get over this quickly. Even if he was at odds with the Thieves Guild, he was a good man and didn't deserve to be miserable. If there was something she could do for him in the end, she'd be happy to, no matter the effort.

XXX

Sharah got back to Dynari's place and brandished the note to those present, "Lex is out. The Waterfront is cleared."

Armand Christophe replied from a seat against the wall, "So we noticed. Good work."

She shrugged and went to drop herself on the stair again.

"I think, as a sign of good faith, Hrormir's Icestaff should be returned," Methredhel said.

Someone perked up, "What? This is our greatest prize yet, snatched right from beneath the wizards' noses."

Armand said, "I see your point, Methredhel. Due to its unique nature, it would never be anything but a prize. Besides we can't afford to have the Mages Guild holding a vendetta against us. The staff needs to go back."

"There's no putting it back where I got it," Sharah said, although her current attitude towards the world left the tone of her voice disinterested, "With the guard back and them knowing their tower is vulnerable, there'd be no getting back in there."

Armand agreed, "Then we'll just have to leave it somewhere else for them to find."

Sharah paid polite attention as the Guild members agreed to place it in the home of a former Mages Guild member. But she wasn't much interested in the goings on at this point. She felt guilty causing Hieronymus Lex such misery. Not enough to give him the Gray Fox, even if she could. But enough to want to make it up to him somehow. She just had to find a way to do it.

**Alright, leave a comment below. Let me know what you think.**


	6. Looking out for Lex

**Rapid update away!**

A Thieves Guild official meeting. Not out of desperation but arranged by intent. Sharah found it a bit odd that she'd been invited. She still didn't feel much like she was a true member. But she'd done enough for the guild that apparently it warranted her a place in the meeting.

Not that she was much in the mood for it. She'd been boiling mad since before she'd gotten back into the city. Damned cut-throat treasure hunters and their damned money-grubbing cronies. Damned Altmer and their damned ego-trip. Ayleid garbage and blasted elven kings and their thrice-damned seats of power!

Sharah had gone for the stone tablet of the High Fane soon after the Waterfront business, as soon as she saw Captain Lex was starting to recover. Sharah should have known better when that puttock Claude Maric had effectively steered her right toward it. She'd braved the dangers of the ruin, retrieved the carving only to meet Maric and his band of cronies outside waiting to ambush her. He'd demanded the carving, she'd refused and he'd ordered his men to attack her. Sharah had been so spitting mad she'd slaughtered them all as Maric fled with his tail between his legs. And all the while, the vicious song of the soul-stealing sword Umbra was ringing in her mind.

And as if that weren't enough, after Lord Umbacano had her steal the Ayleid crown he'd asked her to escort him through the Ayleid city of Nenalata, then shown up with a second escort: Claude Maric. She'd nearly throttled the back-stabber right then and there. Probably should have. At least when Umbacano had tried to turn his power of the Ayleids on her, she'd been able to put a blade through his chest. Betrayal after betrayal and Sharah was in a foul mood because of it. She didn't take treachery well, it seemed. But if the Thieves Guild asked her to attend their meeting, she would swallow her issues and go.

During her progression of things with Umbacano and the Ayleid artifacts, Sharah had made a point to look in on Captain Lex occasionally. Before she left for the High Fane it was clear how depressed he was. But the man had begun recovering his old zeal. It was good to see. But that also meant that before too long, he'd be back on the Waterfront making trouble for the guild. Small wonder this meeting was being called. Sharah just hoped that she wasn't being invited because she was considered his keeper.

At the appointed time, Sharah headed for the Imperial Trading Company's east warehouse on the stone Waterfront spine. It was long after hours so the rest of the employees had gone home. Except one. Adanrel, the Bosmer Sharah had helped her first day on the Waterfront, was there to open the door. She wasn't a member of the Guild but afforded them use of the facility without the need to break in. And she recognized Sharah with a sincere nod as she opened the door to admit her.

Crates and boxes had been set and arranged to be sat upon by the people milling around the storage space. Sharah recognized some of the faces from the meeting at Dynari's house. Although the ones she did seemed confined to the higher ranked members. She could only assume the new faces were the higher ups from the other cities who'd somehow managed to converge on the Imperial City discreetly for the sake of this meeting. Dynari herself was here. So was Methredhel, Armand, even S'Krivva had made it up from Bravil.

The meeting hadn't officially started, so the time was spent partaking of socialization between members. A gathering of thieves like this was truly rare. Methredhel had a few people from out of town captivated with the telling of how she orchestrated the heist of the city. The Bosmer had a future as a bard. Armand and S'Krivva had several conversations going at once and were constantly scanning the room as if looking for someone that they knew was present but couldn't pick out of the crowd.

Sharah wasn't much interested in getting further involved with the guild. And her normally good manners would be soured by the coals of her temper that were still quite hot over that Umbacano fiasco. So Sharah went over to a stack of crates and hopped up to sit and wait for the meeting to actually begin.

"Not going to socialize?"

Sharah had barely noticed the man sitting on the crate beside her. "No. I'm good as I am," she replied. Her attention just sort of glazed over him and she took sock of the other people in the room.

After a few moments, the man beside her spoke again, "You're the one who stole Hrormir's Icestaff, right?"

"Hm?" Somehow he'd caught her off guard again, as though he'd only just sat down, "Oh, yeah. That was me."

"That was very impressive. You must be quite a thief."

Sharah shrugged, "I'm not really a thief. I just help the guild out now and again. Hell, I only joined to keep my house from being burglarized. Thievery wasn't my main interest." She turned toward him, "My name's Sharah, by the way. Well…Sharah the Wolf, if you took a poll of those who know me. And you are?"

He almost looked sad when he replied, "I am just a stranger."

She smiled, "Really? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Stranger." He looked at her offered hand as though it were something alien, but took it gratefully in the end.

"So you're not a thief," he said.

"No. Well…I suppose technically I am. I've stolen things, obviously. But I don't do it for a living. I don't have to. When I steal it's never about money. I steal for…other reasons."

The Stranger specified, "Like helping the Guild."

"Yeah. But that's not the only reason." The Stranger waited for her to elaborate. Sharah sighed and obliged, "I've only stolen intentionally once." She giggled. Remembering that adventure still made her laugh, "My only real heist was in Skingrad. There was this man, Lazare Milvan. Some kind of knight and a flat out jerk. I met him in the street, he was utterly snobbish. This whole 'you are of low birth and beneath even my contempt' sort of thing, and finishing off with the most churlish dismissal you've ever witnessed. If it wasn't for his attitude, I would have just brushed it off. But he irked me. And I'd recently had this dealing with a Daedric Prince and I had…well, anyway..."

She giggled again, "So, one night, I snuck into his house and took everything. And I mean everything. Weapons, books, dinnerware, food. I emptied every container and drawer in his house, took everything off his walls, right down to his quills and brooms and baskets. I would have taken apart his crates and shelves if I'd had the time."

Sharah was laughing out loud and tearing up at this point. "He woke up the next morning in an empty house. Haha! He…haha…he went running out into the street in his nightgown, screaming he'd been robbed. It was hilarious! Mr. High and Mighty…in his nightgown…hahahaha…" She leaned back against the crate behind her, trying to get a breath between her fits of cackling laughter, all with tears streaming down her face. It had been the funniest thing she'd ever seen in her life. Lazare's family had sent funds to reimburse him, clearly wanting to maintain the family image. But it had been a death blow to his ego.

The Stranger was smiling from ear to ear, "That was you?"

She nodded, whipping her eyes, "Yeah. You heard about it?"

He nodded, "The whole underworld was talking about that one. But everyone said the Gray Fox did it."

Sharah drew a deep breath and settled herself down, "Well, he can have the recognition if he wants it. Knowing I put that jerk in his place is reward enough for me." She leaned toward him, "Although, as far as the Fox is concerned, I don't think he does half the stuff people blame him for"

The Stranger looked intrigued, "Really."

She shrugged, "Well, he's just a man, right? Then again, I've never met him, so what do I know?"

By some collective signal, the meeting began. And like the other, there was no single leader of conversation but the topic of discussion came to a single point. The same point in fact: Hieronymus Lex.

"It's only a matter of time until he comes back to the Waterfront. That man is incorrigible."

"We need to find a way to put an end to his meddling, once and for all, before he does some permanent damage."

"As long as he's got any authority on the Watch, he'll be a problem for the Guild."

"Then perhaps he shouldn't be a member of the Watch any longer. He's obsessed with capturing the Gray Fox. We can use that to get him so riled up that they relieve him of duty."

"No," Sharah snapped. She hadn't meant to say it so forcefully, her buried temper at work no doubt. But that didn't keep several of those present from eyeing her. Sharah didn't even flinch under their looks. "He's a good man. He doesn't deserve to be disgraced because he's at odds with the Guild."

A Shadowfoot crossed his arms, "So, the captain's keeper shows her true colors."

Sharah's anger flared and she fixed him with a look that, she'd been told, turned people's blood cold, "Shut it. You haven't the first idea about me." The Dunmer froze and dropped his eyes. Sharah wasn't about to let Lex take another blow just for doing his job.

Armand asked, "Well, if we can't get him dismissed, what would you suggest?"

Sharah felt every eye in the room on her. She didn't like the pressure, but she owed Lex some proper treatment for a change. She put her head back and closed her eyes, blocking out the audience and thinking carefully.

Another threat? If Lex could go chasing something else besides the Fox and the Guild, perhaps it would give them some wiggle room. But he was a one quarry kind of man.

Promotion? Maybe if he had too many other responsibilities he wouldn't have time to go chasing after the Fox. But the only thing higher than Watch Captain in this city was Legion Commander. And even so, he'd still find a way to keep an eye on the Waterfront through someone else.

Reassignment?

Her eyes snapped open, "Reassignment! If Lex were reassigned to serve in another city, he wouldn't be in range to cause the guild trouble." At least here on the Waterfront, but that's where most of their work happened anyway. It would keep his record intact and give him a fresh start where he could really excel, without the Gray Fox obsession hanging over his head. On the crate beside her, the Stranger looked pleased by her suggestion.

Someone asked angrily, "How are we supposed to do that?"

Sharah glared, "We've some of the cleverest minds in Cyrodiil in this room. You're telling me we can't come up with something? He may be a pain in the ass on the Waterfront, but Lex has got an unwavering loyalty to the Empire and the protection of its citizens. There has to be someone in Cyrodiil who considers those desirable attributes in an officer."

"We could send him to Leyawiin," someone offered, "The right hints to that Countess could easily convince her to take him. Especially since he's an Imperial."

Sharah frowned. She'd rather not drop Lex down in the swamp with that crazy bat of a Countess. "I might be able to convince one of the City Guard Captains to take him as a second. Bruma, or Chorrol or Cheydinhal," she said, almost to herself. They all owed her favors of one sort or another. Or at least liked her enough to do her one. She'd argue his sterling reputation and the threatening tarnish of the likely imaginary master thief.

But Lex could easily figure out she'd gotten him reassigned. It would probably convince him she was at least in league with the Thieves Guild. He'd be suspicious of her ever after. She disliked the idea of being at odds with the good Captain, but she was willing to do it if it meant he would come out of this alright. Although, there would be the added bonus of her blown cover in the Guild. Maybe she'd be too much of a liability to involve in any more Guild business.

A Redguard man from Anvil said, "What about Anvil? I came here bearing a message from Countess Millona Umbranox to Commander Adamus Phillida. She's actually looking to replace her Captain of the Guard."

Sharah tried not to be disappointed she'd been robbed of her guild 'out'. "Perfect. So she hasn't picked yet?" It really would be perfect. He'd be entrusted with the security of the entire city, a responsibility he was worthy of and ready for. The pirates by sea and bandits by land would keep him busy. And, besides Leyawiin, Anvil was as far from the Imperial City and the Thieves Guild as you could get."

"No. I delivered the letter from her this afternoon. The Commander's supposed to send his list of recommendations back by courier as soon as possible. But the Countess won't receive the letter, no matter what it is. I heard her steward, Dairihill, talking about getting her cousin the position. She'll stall any letter received until the Countess agrees."

Sharah snorted, "We'll see about that. But even if we get the recommendation to the Countess, the Legion Commander probably won't rank Lex very high on it. Not after that fiasco on the Waterfront." Methredhel sat a bit taller in her seat. Sharah continued, "Anyone here capable of forging that kind of letter? To put Lex at the top of the list?"

"I'll do it," said the Stranger beside her. Several members jumped. Apparently the Stranger could vanish from people's attention as easily as she could. "Provided there is appropriate compensation."

Sharah assured him, "There'll be gold enough to go around, for everyone who has a part in this." Even if she had o take it out of her own pocket.

"A forged letter won't be enough," said the local fence, "It has to be sealed by the Legion Commander's seal. And stealing it will alert the Legion that something is going on."

"So, someone will have to sneak into the Commander's office, seal the forgery, and get out while leaving the seal itself behind," Sharah figured.

"Stealing from the Compound is one thing, but stealing from the Commander's office?"

Sharah shut down the opposition before it took root, "Let's worry about how to do this and then we'll decide who's doing it." She'd do every task if the only other option was Lex getting canned. She reviewed, "So the letter has to be stolen, forged, the forgery sealed with the commander's stamp, and the letter put into the Countess's hands."

The first and the third would be tricky, the forth a simple matter, but ultimately the forgery itself would have to convince the Countess Umbranox to hire him. She looked at the Stranger, "Can you be sure Lex is chosen from that letter?"

He puffed himself up, "I can convince her of anything, I just need the original list."

Sharah nodded, "That's next. How long will it take you to forge it?"

He shrugged, "I'll need a full day, with the right materials."

She looked toward Armand, "Can you get him what he needs?" Armand nodded. "Good, he can use my house to do his work. If you would just wait there, I'll be back as soon as possible."

Sharah hopped off the crate as someone asked, "Hang on. Where are you going?"

"And what about the seal?"

Sharah straightened her cuirass, "I'm going to check if the Commander has sent out the letter yet. If he has, I have to catch the courier. If he hasn't, I'm going to wait in Weye. Couriers regularly stop there before travel. And I'll take care of the seal…unless someone else would like to volunteer."

There were no such volunteers, and once again everyone was looking at her either with respect or because they thought her mad. Truthfully, it was probably a bit of both.

She adjusted the sword on her belt, "Then if I require any further input from the guild, I'll contact Armand. Until then, leave this matter to me."

XXX

Thank the Divines for beggars and wine. The first informed Sharah exactly when the courier had left who bore the Commander's list of recommendations. The second had the courier himself so drunk off his ass that picking through his bag for the right envelope was an easy thing. There were so many other letters to deliver in Skingrad, Kvatch and Anvil, this one would not be missed even give its importance.

Sharah got back to the Waterfront to find both Armand and the Stranger waiting in her home. The Stranger took a good long look at the recommendation list and told Armand exactly what kind of paper, ink, wax and even the sort of quill he would need to properly duplicate it. There was none of that friendly mannerism during the meeting. When he was on a job, this Stranger got bossy. But it did motivate Armand to get the materials together quickly, likely rummaging through the Waterfront warehouses for most. And when he delivered them, the Stranger proceeded to commandeer her entire table for the task. Sharah told Armand she'd handle things from there and that she'd find him if anything more was needed.

That left her alone with the Stranger. Sharah cleared her throat, "Would you prefer to work alone, or may I remain?"

He grunted, "Just don't distract me."

So Sharah removed a book from her drawers and settled on her bed to read. For a while though, Sharah took to watching him work. He was a bit of an artist. He had to be in order to so precisely duplicate another person's writing style. But she couldn't see much from across the room, and standing over him would likely be considered a distraction, so Sharah ultimately went back to her book.

"You going to sneak into the Legion Commander's office after I'm done?" the Stranger asked.

Sharah didn't even glance up, "I thought you didn't want to be distracted."

He didn't look up either, "You talking is a distraction. When I talk, it doesn't distract me."

Sharah could have poked at his working, but decided this was not a man to be trifled with. She answered the question "Likely. Unless the Gray Fox knocks on the door and volunteers."

He grunted, "Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through for a guard."

"Captain Lex is a good man. The world needs more like him. I'd prefer this end well for him.

The Stranger grunted again, but didn't sound convinced.

Sharah tried to change the subject, "So you have a proper name I could call you? Stranger is…a little vague."

The motion of his quill paused, "I've been called Stranger for ten years. It _is_ my name." Sharah wanted to question further, but by the way he spoke, she knew better than to pursue the topic. "So why go to all this trouble? Is it because you feel guilty?"

She shrugged, "That's probably part of it."

"What's the other part?"

Sharah looked blindly at the pages before her. It was odd how she felt responsible for him. He was a good man. She'd come to respect him. He was comfortably familiar to her for some reason. But there was nothing romantic about it.

"He reminds me of my brother."

The words just sort of slipped through her conscious mind and out of her mouth, and they stopped her heart for an instant. It had been so long since she'd actually thought about the family she'd lost. Sharah almost made a point to try and forget. But…he did. From the bickering episode to the exuberance with which he pursued his tasks. If her brother had lived, she could see him growing up to be like Lex. Sharah cleared her throat, trying to keep the waves of emotions from coming up. Seconds ticked by like eons until the quill's scratching resumed. The shack suddenly felt very small.

Sharah stood up and went for the door, "I'll be back later. There's food in the cabinet if you need it."

The night air was a blessing, cleansing on the skin and in the lungs. Sharah headed for the edge of the shack-town. Once on the open beach, she stripped off her boots and walked in the edge of the water. She had to think and figure through this.

Was that what all this was? Was she trying to make up for her brother's death by preserving the life and livelihood of someone who reminded her of him? Was Lex just a proxy for her guild and grief? Sharah hoped not. It wasn't fair to anyone to make that kind of substitution. Not her, or her lost brother, or Lex. And she would have been dragging the Thieves Guild around for it as well.

Sharah stared out over the lake, letting the expanse of water and land and sky fill her visions. Oh, she hoped that wasn't it. But there was no way to tell. She was naturally protective of people, but she had managed to single him out. Or maybe it was a coincidence. Or maybe he'd been set in her path for one reason or another. Damn! She hated the Gods. Couldn't tell what was set up for you and what was your own choice and what was just plain chance.

So what? So what if it she did it because he reminded her of her lost sibling? So What? Did it make it any more or less right to do right by him? No! He was still a good man and he still needed to be moved out of the city. And doing it without damaging his reputation or future was still right. She'd agonize over the 'whys' later. Maybe. For now, she had a job to do.

Sharah went back to the house, entering without disturbing the Stranger at his work, and lay down to sleep. She stubbornly refused to be overcome with concern over this. There was no telling what was going to happen once she got going on this task. But whatever happened, she couldn't afford to be distracted by questions of conscience. She'd have to be at her best or the whole thing would go up in smoke and Lex would suffer for it.

**That heist Sharah talked about is based on an actual thing I did in the game. I met Lazare and said, "That's it, you're gonna get it now." I stole everything from his basement to his pockets. I really wish the vanilla Oblivion game came with a way to pickpocket clothes. I'd have loved to leave him in naught but underpants. HA!**

**Leave comment below with your thoughts.  
**


	7. A True Thief

**This next part gave me some trouble, so it was a while to get it out. Hope you enjoy it.**

The Stranger nudged Sharah awake, "It's done."

Sharah rubbed sleep from her eyes and got up to take a look. With the two documents in her hand, Sharah couldn't tell the difference as far as the script. But the order of names was changed. Hieronymus's name was now at the top of the list, with the Commander's personal recommendation.

Sharah read through everything carefully, just to be certain, "Are you sure this will convince her?"

The Stranger huffed, "Of course. I know Millo…I know noble folk. And I know what I'm doing."

Sharah nodded, "I just have to be sure. Thank you." When she folded the letter up and made to tuck it away, he coughed pointedly. "Oh, right. My apologies."

Sharah went to her gold chest, and opened the lid to reveal a chest filled high with gold coins. She reached in and measured out five hundred pieces. Now was not the time to be skimping. She handed him the heavy sack of coin, "Here you are. Five hundred gold for your services." The Stranger took the amount but his eyes strayed to the chest. Sharah nudged it closed with her foot, "Like I said, I don't need to steal. You may rest here if you would like. My home is at your disposal."

Sharah took a look out her mostly blocked window. It was light outside, but early daylight. She couldn't afford to make a run on the Imperial Commander's office under a bright Magus. That meant a day spent waiting. Waiting for her second real heist. Robbing Lazare Milvan's house had been for fun and personal satisfaction. This time, her theft would be for a far more serious reason. And the consequences would be dire if she was caught…She could not be caught. If she was even seen…

She went riffling through her drawers until she came across a scrap of black cloth. She cut two slits and set the cloth over her face. It would do. And just as a precaution. Sharah had no intention of being seen tonight. She stuffed the cloth into her pack and collected a set of dark clothing, tucking all of it at the bottom of her bag and piling her usual travel gear on top. She'd be seen leaving the city today. Before the heist occurred. It would provide her an alibi if it was ever needed. Again, just as a precaution.

The Stranger watched her prepare to depart, "You're just going to leave me here in your house? Alone?"

Sharah tossed the pack on her back, "You've been up all night. Certainly you deserve the rest." She caught him looking at her chest of gold, "Oh. That. You're bound by guild rules as much as anyone. Or is there some other reason I should be suspicious of you?"

Without waiting for a response, Sharah headed out the door. She had gold caches stored all over Cyrodiil. If he took another few handfuls, she wouldn't be affected so greatly. Besides, gold was less important than the task she now faced. Stealing into the Legion Compound for the sake of a Captain's career. She had to focus.

XXX

_Wear shadows in the dark of night_

_to hide your form from others' sight._

Even wanting to keep Umbra close, she couldn't afford to carry anything more than absolutely necessary. She had to be light on her feet if this turned into a chase. She left her horse and supplies in the Ayleid ruins across the water from the Legion Compound. Then she waited until after dark and slipped into the water.

_Change windows to doors, walls to floors_

_A thief must make their own path_

The Imperial prison wall was daunting. But the front door was out of the question. One entrance, well lit, always guarded…not likely. Sharah tugged the knot of her cloth face mask tighter before pulling out two arrows of Dwemer make and digging them between the stones into the wall's mortar. It took all the upper body strength she had and every inkling of focus she could muster but one after another, one stubborn movement at a time, Sharah drove the arrow points into the wall and pulled herself up. The ground beneath her moved steadily away, and foot by foot, Sharah climbed the sheer wall. She would not look down, nor up. Only focus on the next foothold, the next placement of her arrows, the next inch to be traveled up.

_Wary, wary, ear and eye_

_Wary, wary, listen, watch_

_Wary, wary, all are your enemy_

It was impossible to tell how long the climb took. But, at last, Sharah saw the top of the wall above her. And the most impressive, not a sound of difficulty had passed her lips during the entire climb. She'd been too focused even to acknowledge her screaming muscles. And didn't dare think about the climb back down. It would be the same: driven by straight will and stubbornness.

Near the top, her mouth opened and she recited a spell she'd learned in Leyawiin. It was spoken so softly that the sound was carried away on the wind, but the magic itself coalesced behind her eyes and provided Sharah temporarily enchanted vision. No guards within sight. No life forces anywhere beyond or upon the wall she'd scaled.

Sharah pulled herself the last two feet and hauled herself up over the wall. Her entire body sighed at the reprieve. But there was no time for rest. She had to get inside properly and find that office. At least the Thieves Guild was good for something. Someone, sometime, somehow had slipped a parchment into her pack. Sharah had found it while preparing for her heist in that Ayleid ruin: a layout of the prison. Sharah couldn't ask who, but she owed them something fierce. She'd started out with a plan but the holes in her plan were coming to light now that she was actually on the job. Sharah really should have taken more time to prepare. A note for the future. But now, the job.

_See the soles upon your feet? They tread not upon the ground._

_See the fingers upon your hand? They touch not what you lay them upon._

She followed the rooftops. How fortunate that facility layouts were mapped as though from the sky. It meant she could find the Commander's office without ever setting foot in the building. Sharah came to the edge of the roof and slowly lowered herself over the edge and found hand and footholds upon the wall. Her dark clothing was masked in the shadows of the night cast by the buildings. She edged slowly toward the window and, after casting another spell to detect any lifeforces, opened the window's latch and slipped inside the empty office.

The desk was easy to pick out, the seal in the upper drawer with a lock that was no match for the Skeleton Key of Nocturnal. Sharah used the Commander's source of wax and heated it with a light fire spell, all the time with her heart pounding in her throat and ears. It was a miracle the entire compound didn't hear the thing. The casting of the spell forced her to focus. She tried to duplicate the seal on the original document. The amount of wax and, finally, the care of imprinting the Legion seal upon the document.

Sharah waited only long enough for the wax to cool and harden. Then she replaced everything, bid the Skeleton key reengage the lock, slipped the document securely within her shirt and left through the window again. She retraced her steps: closing the window, wiggling the latch back into place, scaling the wall back to the roof, the roof back to the great facility wall. Up over the edge, down the outside, one closely focused arrow placement after another. She reached the ground and moved with all speed down to the lake, over the lake to the ruin, into the ruin to her horse, exchanged thief garb for that of a warrior. Then upon her horse and out onto the road toward Anvil.

She'd done it. She'd really done it. Sharah hadn't taken a proper breath the entire time and now…she had done it! She'd snuck into a heavily guarded facility, stolen the mark of the legion and, as far as she knew, gotten away with it. Sharah smiled…then grinned…then laughed out loud. She shouldn't feel such a sense of accomplishment for this. But, while she'd been in the Thieves Guild for a couple years, while she'd stolen things and worked with the thieves she knew, only now could Sharah truly say this to herself, 'I am a thief.'

_A true thief never comes and never goes,_

_A true thief was never there at all,_

_A true thief does not exist,_

_Because the Shadow hides you._

XXX

"I have a document to deliver to Countess Millona Umbranox," Sharah told the steward. She'd been stopped outside the audience chamber where the castle steward now questioned her. This was Dairihill. The one who was intent on getting her cousin the job that Sharah now sought for Hieronymus. The next obstacle in Sharah's path now that she'd made the long ride from the capital.

"And what document might that be?" the Bosmer asked.

"The list of candidates that the Countess requested of the Commander of the Imperial Legion for her new Captain of the Guard. I have the list and am here to deliver it to Countess Umbranox."

The Bosmer replied, "Ah, yes. We have been expecting that. Well, if you would just give that to me, I'll see to it that she gets it." The steward held out her hand expectantly.

Sharah didn't budge an inch, and certainly did not produce the document in question. "I have been instructed to deliver this directly into the Countess's hand. I cannot give it to you."

The woman winced, then scowled, "Do you know who I am? I am the Countess's steward. She has given me the power and authority to handle the matters of the county. And certainly to take in the mail. Now give me your letter."

"You may be the steward but this document is sensitive. And both the sender and the recipient supersede your position. This goes to the Countess and the Countess alone." There was no way Dairihill was getting in the way of this. Sharah had already put too much work into it.

Before the steward could make a physical attempt to gain the letter, Sharah side stepped around her and strode quickly into the audience chamber of castle Anvil. The Countess was holding court, looking through some document on her throne at the chamber's end and looked up at Sharah's entrance. Dairihill hustled in after her, but couldn't actually force Sharah to exit without causing a scene.

When Sharah drew near, the Countess asked, "Greetings. Welcome to Anvil. Who might you be?"

Dairihill spoke up, having finally caught up with Sharah, saying, "Just a courier, my Lady. With your permission, I would take care of this."

Sharah ignored the woman, "I am here to deliver your Guard Captain recommendation from Commander Phillida in the Imperial City. I apologize for the interruption, my lady. But my instructions were to deliver this document to your hand alone." Just beside and behind her, Sharah could hear Dairihill steaming in her gold stitched shoes.

The Countess frowned, "Hm, these missives are normally handled by my steward. However, as you are here," and she set her document aside and extended a hand.

Sharah climbed the stair, drawing the sealed envelope from within her cuirass and placed it into the waiting palm, then stepped away. She tried not to wince when the Countess spared the seal only a brief glance before popping the thing open and pulling out the forged list. It's not like the noble could know how much work Sharah had put into getting it to look so official.

Countess Umbranox scanned the list, "…Hieronymus Lex looks like the best choice. And with the Commander's personal recommendation. Certainly there could be no one better. Remain where you are, courier. I will have you return with the reassignment orders. Dairihill, would you bring them to me please?"

The Bosmer marched off, still seething, and returned with papers in hand. No matter what she'd wanted for her cousin, there was no way she would defy the Countess herself. Countess Umbranox filled in the forms with the appropriate names, signed and sealed the envelope and presented it to Sharah, "Deliver these to Captain Hieronymus Lex. I shall expect him to arrive promptly."

Sharah bowed, "Yes, my lady," and turned to leave the audience chamber.

Another swell of accomplishment in her chest. She had the orders. All that work and it was coming to exactly where she'd aimed it. All that was left was for Lex to receive these orders and it would be done. She would have saved the Thieves Guild a whole lot of trouble, and Lex a ruined career. She was so close. Just a few more steps to the finish.

"You! Stop!"

Sharah turned to see that obnoxious Bosmer trotting toward her, her face still screwed up with discontent. "Here," she snapped, throwing a small coin purse at Sharah's chest, "The Countess insists I tip you for your work."

Sharah smiled pleasantly, hefting the bag and counting the coins by weight and feel, "Thank you. She is most generous."

The steward Dairihill scowled, "Next time you come to this castle, think twice before pulling that kind of stunt. I don't care what orders you get, you keep in mind who holds the power in this castle."

"The Countess?" Sharah asked, feigning a simpleton's smile just to see the Bosmer's face get even more heated. It was actually kind of fun watching her cheeks go through all those different shades of red.

"I control any in's and out's here. I'm the one who dispenses policy," she jabbed a finger into Sharah's chest, "You just remember that the next time you come here. I don't care what the Countess says. If I see you again, I'll—"

Sharah heard the threat building. But before it could be voiced, however, Sharah grabbed the finger that the woman had been stabbing into Sharah's cuirass and twisted it sideways drawing a surprised yelp from the woman, Dairihill. "Why you insolent—"

Another twist and yelp cut her off. Sharah kept her grip firm, making clear she could break the finger at a moment's notice, but discrete so that casual passer's by wouldn't see the potential for damage.

"It is not wise to threaten someone whose capabilities you aren't fully aware of. Stop trying to convince yourself you're still on top of things here. You tried to manipulate things so they'd go your way. But you failed. You've lost this one. And your cousin will just have to find work on his own."

Dairihill stopped struggling and her eyes widened a little, "How did you…?"

Sharah leaned in, "Walls have ears, Dairihill. And I am a very good listener. So I suggest you take the loss and move on. Before you hurt yourself."

She let go of the steward's finger and moved swiftly to the castle's front door. She shouldn't have threatened the steward. But it had been even more enjoyable than watching the color spectrum of her cheeks. Hopefully worth whatever trouble she'd cultivated from that last exchange.

Sharah thought it better that she not actually deliver the orders herself. Now that she'd actually gone through all this trouble, it felt worth it to her not to let Lex know who'd been involved with his reassignment. The convenience of it all would doubtless occur to him. And now that Sharah could actually consider herself a thief, she actually wanted to keep it to herself.

At the Courier outpost, Sharah passed the Countess's orders, oddly enough, to the very courier she'd stolen them from in Weye. Apparently, even with her heist at the Legion compound, she'd still managed to get to Anvil ahead of him. The seal got his attention and he assured her it would be delivered to the Captain post-haste. But hopefully with more care than he'd carried the original list of candidates. Even if there was no one actually aiming to steal his burden this time.

So it was done. Attaining the final goal was only a matter of time. But Sharah had to be certain. She didn't want to approach the Captain before he'd received and accepted the orders. Perhaps she would just wait here. Be sure he showed up. The orders were official. And, being a loyal soldier in the Legion, Captain Lex wouldn't refuse them. Even if they did take him far from his quarry, he'd be bound by his own sense of honor to obey. So Sharah would wait here. She'd wait in Anvil, just until he showed up. Then, back to her fighters' lifestyle.

Whatever she'd done as a thief, however exhilarating it had been to creep within shadows, she was a fighter. She felt right with a weapon in hand. And she was Fighters Guild, through and through. No amount of thieving would change that.

Now…she just had to find something to do while she waited on Lex.

**And there it is. We're just about finished with this story. A couple more chapters to go. Leave a review on your way out.**


	8. The Manor

**I've really got to up and finish this stupid thing. Most of this chapter has just been sitting on my computer while I did other things, so I finally completed it. I'm thinking two maybe three more chapters. No more than and we'll call this prequel done. Onward and upward.**

"I see you are admiring my grandfather's fine manor."

Sharah stood up abruptly from where she'd been leaning. She hadn't really been admiring the place. More wondering if anyone was living there. The stonework and masonry were sound, but the rest of the building looked a little destitute. "No, I was just looking—"

"It's for sale, you know," the nobleman said quickly. "If you're in the market for a home, I can promise you'd find no better lodging here in Anvil than Benirus manor."

Sharah backed off a little, "Oh, no. I'm sure I couldn't possibly afford a place like this." It was enormous, for one. A large garden out front, a couple of wings, there was a glass roofed side that looked like some kind of conservatory. She couldn't even see most of the back of the place from here. And that wasn't even taking into account the craftsmanship of the building and whatever was inside. "No, I definitely couldn't afford this sort of place. I don't think I even have…" How much had she stored in her Anvil cache? "…more than five thousand gold within reach anyway."

The nobleman exclaimed, "What a coincidence! That is precisely the amount I was asking for the manor."

"Look, I really don't think—"

He interrupted quickly, "And that includes the grounds and everything inside. I understand all of the furniture and art is still packed away within. So, what do you say? Would you like to own this most fine and coveted property here in the most beautiful city in the province?"

Damn, it sounded like the deal of a lifetime. But he was pushing it so hard…

Sharah crossed her arms, "What's wrong with it?"

His eyes widened in panic, "Wrong? Nothing's wrong with it. Why would you think there was anything wrong with it? It's a fine property. Just fine. Why would you ask such a thing?"

Sharah didn't budge, his attitude giving her reason to hold firm. "There is no way you would really sell a place like this for five thousand. You could easily get ten times that. So there has to be something wrong with it."

The nobleman hurried to explain, "Well, the place hasn't been used for some time and will require some upkeep. And my family has largely moved to the Imperial City and has no use for the place. Really, we'd just like to have it off our hands. So, what do you say? For such a modest sum you really couldn't find a better deal."

Sharah looked up at the manor. Trying to find a reason to refuse, but also feeling the sudden appeal of having a real house in her possession. The Waterfront shack did not count. And this was more than she ever thought she'd have in her life. She'd come across few interesting things for sale before that she'd hesitated to buy only to come back weeks, even days later and found gone. But he was really pushing the sale.

"I want to see the inside." He looked ready to resist, but Sharah insisted, "I won't buy the place without seeing the inside. For all I know you're selling me a place with giant holes in the floor. I want to see the inside."

He hesitated just a little too long for her liking, but ultimately nodded and led her through the outside gate and up to the porch. Sara kept an eye out as they walked. The gardens were pretty much dead but she'd seen that from the street. Up closer she also saw that most or all of the windows were broken and the shutters were either damaged or missing entirely. He fumbled with the keys before opening the front door for her.

Sharah walked inside and was surprised. Oh, it was pretty bad. Dusty, musty, devoid of much living material, very little furniture and the stuff that was there was either broken or covered by cloths. But it was solid. The floors and walls hadn't decayed. There wasn't any sign of animal habitation. And she couldn't smell any dampness, which meant there probably wasn't any mold. From what she could tell, the main difficulty would be cleaning the place up. And filling it. Even the entrance hall looked very empty without any furniture or anything on the walls or floors.

The noble hung back by the door while Sharah explored inside. And the more Sharah wandered the manor, the more she suspected the reason for the low price. She wasn't buying manor so much as the dusky husk of a manor. It was going to take her a while to make this place livable. And a good amount of her own money, too. The place lacked much of anything in the way of furniture. A table here, a cabinet there. She'd have to raid many more ruins to furnish a place this size.

That was until Sharah got down into the basement. It was extensive and the whole space was stacked floor to ceiling with furniture that the upstairs lacked. And she was back to wondering about the low price. Without the noble around, Sharah chanced opening a couple of the crates that were stacked against the wall: silver candlesticks and dishware. There were some carefully stored paintings in one, fine tapestries in another, rugs, wall hangings, antiques. Even a fraction of this stuff could sell for five thousand. And he was offering it all up with the house. It looked like the deal of a lifetime. So what was the catch? Her suspicion was up. There had to be a catch.

Sharah returned to the door, from which the noble hadn't budged. He was eyeing the inside uneasily but slapped on an eager face when he saw her, "So what do you think? Ready to buy?"

Sharah walked up to him and crossed her arms, "Alright, what's wrong with it?"

His eyes widened and he said hurriedly, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"You're selling this manor dirt cheap. Why?"

The nobleman took a couple steps away from the doorway, straightening his coat, "As I mentioned, my family is moving from the area and this is really our only loose end. I'm anxious to have it off my hands. So, do you wish to purchase the manor? I do have other business to see to."

Sharah looked back into the manor thoughtfully. This was the deal of a lifetime. Good enough that it was too good. There had to be something wrong with it. It was out of use, but the place was solid and had a lot of potential. And for this price, Sharah believed the effort to restore everything would be worthwhile. And even if there was a problem with it, whatever the defect was, she could probably handle it. Maybe the snooty nobles would lift their noses at it, but Sharah was a working girl. She could and would put in the effort to make this place a home. And what a home it would be.

She looked over at the noble, "I'll take it."

XXX

"BENIRUS!" The noble bolted upright at his table in the Brina Cross Inn. The pleased look on his face fled before the fury of the Wolf woman who was coming at him full force and enraged. "You fetcher! You thrice damned, treacherous, little coward. How dare you?!" He tried to get up and bolt, but she was faster and more willing to get physical. Sharah grabbed him by the collar and heaved him around to smack against the wall and held him there, "You blackguard! You thought you could get away with this? You thought if you got out of town fast enough that I wouldn't be able to find you? Is that it?"

Lord Benirus stuttered, "I-I'm sure I d-don't know what you're—"

Sharah knocked his head against the wall, "Don't you dare give me that. You sold me a cursed manor you two faced snake!"

He tried to shrug with only some success, "Well…I supposed I should have told you—"

"_Suppose_?!"

"—but I had to get out of Anvil. I have other business and there are some very important people is expecting me in the Imperial City—"

"Oh, no," Sharah interrupted, "You're going nowhere except back to Anvil and that house."

The noble paled several shades. "No, I can't go in there. You bought the manor. It's your problem now."

Sharah glared at him, keeping a firm grip on his fine shirt and letting a growl reverberate low in her throat, "I am called the Wolf for a reason, Benirus. Would you care to see my teeth?" He swallowed hard. "Now you are coming back to Anvil willingly, or I'll knock you out and put you over my horse. But you are returning to that manor where you will help me break that curse. You're taking care of your family's business here whether you like it or not. Your only option right now is whether you go back awake or unconscious. So, which is going to be?"

XXX

"Have you got that open yet?" Sharah demanded. Those puddles of ectoplasm were being absorbed by the bricks of the floor and the ghosts would soon be coming out of the walls again.

Benirus was hunkered down against the wall, searching the surface for some means of opening the stone. But there seemed to be nothing, despite intricately carved patterns on the wall. "No. I don't know how. I'm no mage. I have no idea what to do."

"Well figure something out fast. Those ghosts are going to be back any minute." Damn she hated the undead. And the fact that these ghosts were bound to the house and getting spewed back out as fast as she killed them was really getting on her nerves.

Benirus jumped as the skeletal hand on the ground twitched. The damn thing was giving her the creeps, clawing along the floor and now scratching at the wall as if it wanted to be on the other side. And all without any living mind or flesh or tendon to guide it. But better it be next to the pansy noble than her. The puddles of ectoplasm were entirely gone now and the forms of the sectors were beginning to pull out of the walls. There was only so long she could keep doing this.

"Get that door open," she growled, taking up a ready pose in preparation.

"I'm trying!" he insisted, digging at the walls with his fingernails almost desperately as the moans started to echo toward them.

Sharah spat a curse, "Divines and Daedra!" She dropped Chillrend at her feet and whipped out her dagger. Grabbing the noble's hand she slashed the palm quickly and slammed it against the wall. He shrieked and wiggled as the blood flowed down the wall. Then the liquid began to flow unnaturally, no longer groundward but into the wall, filling in the thread thin patterns in the stone. Benirus gaped and gagged. Behind them, Sharah heard the ghosts let out a wail and collapse into pools of ectoplasm while the manor shuddered. So the house really was blood bound to the Benirus family line. Lucky guess on her part.

She let the noble wrench himself away. The blood on the wall was completely gone, draining into the patterns in the stone. Then the patterns began to glow and there was a ringing like bells. Particular collections of lines lit up, creating glowing symbols that reminded Sharah a little of the Mages Guild. The glow of the circles and symbols drained toward the center, weaving into the mortar between the stones and creating a meandering line straight up and down. Then that line broke apart and the wall parted, the wall crumbling backwards into an archway, changing the wall into a doorway and revealing the room beyond.

Sharah was astounded. She'd never seen magic like this. Behind her, she heard some scrambling. Probably Benirus making a run for it now that the way was open and the ghosts were gone. Sharah let him go. She didn't think she really needed him now. He'd probably just get in the way. But if she did, Sharah could hunt him down again later.

The skeleton hand was on the move again. Without the stone to block its way, the hand clasped and clawed and crawled through the doorway and into the next room. Sharah retrieved Chillrend and crept into the revealed room. This was one of those rare times when she would probably feel better having Umbra on her person. But the possessed Daedric longsword was upstairs in the grand bedchamber where she'd left it when the ghosts had woken her and driven her out the other day. She'd just have to hope her shortsword was enough.

In the chamber, the hand continued its crawl past a set of shelves with embalming tools on it, past the scattered remains of skeletons, long dry and dusty, candles burned into puddles of wax, the symbols that had lit up on the door scattered across the walls. The place looked like something between a laboratory, a crypt and a chapel. And at the center of the room, an altar with an ancient corpse resting on it. And the corpse was missing a hand.

The skeletal appendage crept along the floor and clawed its way to the base of the stone altar, straining upward but unable to climb the distance. Sharah inched forward. This whole place felt wrong. Every hair on her neck standing straight up when the skeleton spoke. "Who enters my resting place?" it rasped with a ragged breath.

Sharah just about jumped out of her shoes and throttled Chillrend's hilt. "One who would see this house released from its curse."

There was a pause before the corpse spoke again, "Then your coming is a blessing. For my binding here is as much a curse upon me as upon this house. I am what remains of Lorgren Benirus. My past deeds have left my soul bound to this place. Deed which I have come to regret after all these years."

Lorgren Benirus. The last real owner of this house. And that living noble's grandfather. He was still…here. Not alive, but not exactly the traditional sort of undead either. But sort of stuck in his dead body. And stuck in this room. Divines and Daedra, he'd been in here for at least fifty years. Maybe longer. Just existing in his shell of a body, staring at these walls…for fifty years. Wow. She couldn't imagine what that would do to someone's mind.

Sharah remembered the journal she had found while clearing out the office upstairs. Before she'd been attacked by the ghosts, "You practiced necromancy."

Another ragged breath was taken. "Yes. I discovered a necromantic tome of spells. Spells I used to enslave the spirits of the dead. Spirits that are bound to the manor with me. It lies there upon the table. I had hoped to prolong my own life. But before I could complete the ritual, the Mages Guild raided my home and interrupted my work!" His tone had grown in intensity, but it mellowed quicky, "The result was as you see now. Bound to my body and this place, even after death, unable to move. And with the loss of my hand I had not the strength to break what held me or even to move on. And so I was cursed to linger on in solitude. But that solitude has given me time to think. And regret. Now I only wish to be made whole again and make my final peace with the Nine." Sharah felt herself being observed. "I had hoped one of my own blood would seek me out…"

Sharah tried not to appear unfeeling, "Your grandson was here. But the cursed house…I think it was a bit more than he could handle."

"I see," the skeleton rasped. "Then you shall be my savior. Please, rejoin my hand to my body. Once whole, the minding shall be broken, and I will be free to pass into the next life."

Sharah looked down at the hand that was still clawing at the side of the altar and couldn't help the shudder that ran through her. This felt wrong. And not just because the severed grasping skeletal hand was unnatural. But the standing altar was like an insurmountable mountain between body and hand. They were so close, but there was no way either could reach the other. But something else about this felt wrong to her.

Lorgren Benirus noticed her hesitation and made a final plea, "I beg you, make me whole. So long as I remain to suffer so too do the souls I enslaved in life."

For all her distaste in the undead, if there was a chance that that was true then she couldn't just leave all these souls the way they were. Maybe Lorgren Benirus deserved his punishment for the things he'd done, but those poor souls he'd ensnared were innocent of such wrongdoing. So she swallowed and stepped forward. She didn't even have her gauntlets on which meant she actually had to touch the thing. Oh, this was going to suck. As quickly as she could, Sharah pinched the base of the hand's wrist and lifted it gingerly up o the table and set it bone to bone against the end of Lorgren's empty arm. The instant she let go, Sharah jumped back and rubbed her fingers vigorously against her pant leg. Damn, she hated dead bodies.

There was a snap as the bones reconnected themselves and Lorgren Benirus let out a sigh of relief. Then the corpse's head snapped sideways to look at her. "It never fails to amuse me how easy mortals are to manipulate." Before she could react, Sharah was flung backwards with such force that she went flying through the door, landing hard in the basement beyond. She scrambled up to see Lorgren's corpse rising off the altar, laughing, "I suppose I should thank you. Because of you, my spell is complete. No longer am I some broken waste of a spirit, but an all powerful lich at last!"

Damn, damn, damn! What had she done? Sharah couldn't take on a lich. She turned and bolted through the basement as fast as her legs could carry her. She had to get out of here. Get help. Find someone. Warn everyone! Lorgren's laughter followed after. The whole house was alive. The floor beneath her feet, the walls around her, the ceiling above. And there were screams of the trapped soul now lamenting the full return of their slave master.

Sharah got up out of the basement to see upstairs as bad as the basement. The shutters that still hung were snapping against the windows, small items were flying everywhere, the very floors and walls seemed to be warping and bowing. And instinct told her the doors out of here would be sealed shut. Lorgren's laughter echoed through the entire house, "For your service, I will give you a proper place among my undead army."

Sharah though desperately. If that lich got her, she was worse than dead. She couldn't battle that kind of foe. She didn't have the kind of power to win this fight. An idea sparked in her mind. She just hoped it was more powerful than a mortal man turned lich. If she could just reach it.

Sharah leapt for the stairway, praying Lorgren wasn't directly behind her. She took the stairs three at a time and ran down the upstairs hall. Lorgren hadn't bothered to seal the inside doors yet. It gave her a chance. Sharah reached the master bedroom and dove for the pack she'd left here the other night, snatching free the black crystal blade from where it was lashed. "Umbra, I hope you're hungry," she whispered. Stupid comment. This blade was always hungry. With Sharah's hand on the hilt and her intent to use it, the blade roared to life in response. Sharah hadn't really used this on an opponent before. And monsters didn't count. But if there was anything stronger than a lich it was a daedric, soul-steeling blade with an appetite and a bad attitude.

Sharah gripped the hilt tight and turned toward the door. He was coming. She could feel it in the air. The house, flexing and howling. Lorgren drifted into the room, feet not even touching the floor, "Your foolishness knows no bounds. You think to fight me? No weapon can kill me!"

Sharah growled, "I think it will kill you properly." Provided she could actually get this blade into him.

Lorgren laughed and unleashed a wave of lightening at her. Sharah didn't have time to dodge and the blast struck her dead on. She expected to be writhing on the ground, but the blow was minor. Even Lorgren seemed surprised to see her still standing. And on her finger, the Ring of the Vipereye warmed and glowed. Sharah grinned like an idiot. Thank you, Narina! Sharah took advantage of his surprise and dashed across the room before he had a chance to attack again, driving Umbra into the corpse.

Umbra screamed in her mind, and Sharah felt it begin to feed on the lich's spirit. Sharah didn't bother to try to keep control but set Umbra loose. And the blade responded. So did Lorgren. He felt the spiritual draw and lurched backwards. Sharah pursued, striking again and giving Umbra a fresh taste. Lorgren realized his danger, uncertain what he was facing and attempted to flee. But Sharah leapt forward and buried Umbra deep in his chest. Lorgren screamed as Umbra drank deeply of its favorite sustenance. It drew the lich's spirit like poison from a wound, sucking Lorgren's soul from the very house to which he had bound his immortal self. Sharah kept the blade firmly embedded as the house seemed to be pulled inward toward this center. At last the rushing ceased and both the house and the skeleton lay still and empty.

It was over. Thank the Nine! And anyone else who had hand in it. Sharah let go of Umbra where it was embedded. The blade didn't seem interested in pursuing her for control this time. Probably because this was the first proper 'meal' she'd given it in all the time it had been on her person. And what a meal. An entire haunted house worth of lich-soul. Hopefully that would appease it for a little while.

Sharah sat back against the baseboard of the bed. There was a warm tickle down her arm. A wound trickling blood. When had that happened? It wasn't too bad. She'd heal it in a minute once she got her breath back. Barely a scratch compared to what could have happened.

The blood ran down her arm and she saw a few drops fall to the floor…and soak into the stone like it was cloth and vanished. Sharah scrambled to her feet. What in Oblivion? Was the house still cursed? She waited, expecting ghosts to come flooding out of the walls again. But nothing. Just quiet. No, not complete quiet. The house was…breathing. No, that wasn't right. It was a house. It didn't breath. But it was the building's equivalent. It…lived. It wasn't just stone and mortar it was alive somehow. And waiting for something. Maybe.

Sharah stood wondering for a little while, expecting something to happen. The 'living' house had far greater patience. She walked slowly across the room. Then down the hallway. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. The house felt like it was waiting on her, but not like it was watching her as it had before. The awareness without Lorgren's ill intent.

For whatever reason, Sharah's feet carried her downstairs before long and back to that door of stones in the wall. Lorgren had closed it before coming after her and the wall looked like a wall again. Sharah looked at it for a while, then reached out to touch the thread thin lines written in the rock. It felt warm to the touch. Again, as though the house was alive somehow. But nothing else happened. She wondered…

Sharah took out the dagger that was on her hip and ran a shallow cut across her hand, then pressed it to the wall. Just like with the living Benirus noble, the blood flowed down and then flowed in the lines. The blood became a glow, the glow became symbols, then the symbols ran like water to that line down the center and the door in the wall opened once again to reveal the resting chamber behind.

Umbra hadn't just sucked up Lorgren's soul, it had sucked his soul from the house. All of it. Even the blood-binding of the Benirus line to the manor. But whatever enchantment the lich had put in place didn't break now that he was gone, just left it empty. And at the first opportunity, the house had blood-bound itself to another…her. Just like that. A few drops on the 'living' stone and it had a new master. Good thing there hadn't been a lot of other people bleeding here.

But this was definitely…weird. Still, maybe it wasn't so bad. Something to get used to, for certain. But she was going to be living here. This was going to be home and maybe a binding like this would be a benefit. Only time would tell. At least there weren't any ghosts in the wall anymore. So that was something. Although the use of this room would depend on how often she had to cut her hand. Sharah leaned against the archway of the door, feeling the house's awareness around her. This was going to take some getting used to.

**I do wish Sharah had more time to spend at the manor. But the Ra Gada Urge kind of ruins her chances of chilling out at the house. I do love that manor though. Really awesome. Perfect retirement location. I think I'd fight a lich for that kind of deal. You know, if I had a soul stealing sword and could conjure fireballs.**


	9. Lex on the Shore

**I really should have announced a hiatus or something, but I kept writing down a paragraph here, a paragraph there. So I knew I was writing even if I didn't post anything. Still, sorry for the wait. I'm still deciding if it will be one or two more chapters after this one, but I am trying to finish it up. Enjoy!**

It had been a few weeks of work, but well worth it. The manor was actually livable with furniture and furnishings from the basement now set into place around the house. But that had been later on the list. The first thing was the removal of those bodies from that secret room down in the basement where Lorgren had been trapping their souls inside the house. He'd apparently stolen the bodies from the chapel's crypt while he was still alive. Sharah got the corpses out of the room and into the basement proper before sealing the secret door and calling on the chapel. The priests were only too happy to come to Benirus Manor and take the dead away to be properly entombed again.

And during the course of this delightful visit regarding the handling and removal of long dead bodies, Sharah received another visitor. A mage from the local Mages guildhall who called herself Carahil. Sharah had never spent much time with the mages, so this mer woman was a stranger. But apparently Carahil, now the leader of the local chapter, had been the one to lead the raid on Benirus Manor all those years ago when Lorgren's necromantic experiments had set the city against him. The magister thanked Sharah for finally destroying the lich and offered to scour the manor for any other signs of his presence. Sharah accepted and they wandered the building while the priests removed the bodies of Lorgren's victims one by one.

Sharah was actually curious as to how Lorgren had avoided the raid as he had. The mages had come in force to stop him. But he'd still managed to get away and hide himself in that secret room. Minus one appendage. Sure enough, when Carahil reached the lower level she passed right over the hidden door without noting anything. Hm, so the room was hidden physically and magically. That was something to remember. The magister declared the manor free of Lorgren's influence, something Sharah could have told her to begin with, and the priests removed all the remains before the afternoon. This left Sharah with the manor properly at her disposal for the first time since she'd bought it.

It took a couple of weeks to get things put to rights. There was so much to do. Rugs and carpets had to be dug out of the basement storage, the furniture needed to be measured and selected for certain spaces before she even tried moving any of the pieces upstairs and into their final places, and all the little bits and bobs and necessities had to be set around so the house didn't look bare of life. Sharah got a lot of help from her guildmates on furniture. And it had been a fun few days. Up and down the stairs, into and out of the basement, carrying chairs and tables and boudoirs. And quite a number of stubbed toes, pinched hands, and the yelling of things like "put it down, I have to get a better grip" and "back up, it's not gonna fit" and "no, your other right".

It had been a whole lot of crazy, but they'd been a great help and the work had gone quickly. Sharah couldn't have done it alone. And despite the pains of it, her guildmates had been happy to help. Especially when she'd let them raid the wine cellar and they'd spent that night stone drunk in the dining hall. The manor actually seemed alive again. And it was a miracle they hadn't broken anything.

Sharah got a better feel for the house's blood binding while they worked. The manor wasn't alive, per say. It didn't have a soul and it wasn't intelligent. But it did have a certain awareness to it. And having a living soul bound to the place instead of a lich helped. Sweeping became almost unnecessary as the layer of dust that had accumulated all over the house seemed to make its way out though windows and under doors in the first week. Stains on the walls either faded on their own or became a lot easier to clean. The dead garden started growing. Even the windows let in more light.

But there were things Sharah had to do on her own. The house couldn't replace shutters, mend broken glass or missing shingles. Those were Sharah's tasks. She ordered the windows from Lelles' Quality Merchandise and had enough local supplies to get everything else. Sharah had a long list of all the little things that needed fixing and it kept her busy while she waited. Waited for Captain Lex to show up. That had been the point of all this. Admittedly, she hadn't expected to be quite this busy in the meantime. But, all the same, Sharah was doing all this so she could watch for Lex without being conspicuous. And he had to show up sometime, so Sharah kept at the little repairs.

In the middle of the third week after Lorgren's defeat, in the early morning, Sharah was up a ladder removing the broken windows on the upper floors. The Serpent's Wake had come in yesterday afternoon with her new windows. She probably should have taken these broken ones out a while ago, but there had been so much else to do. And Sharah wanted to have the spaces open and waiting for the new glass before she went and picked it up. The shutters were on the porch waiting to go in after. She'd probably have to rig something up to get them to the second floor, or hire someone else to do it.

"Hail!"

Sharah jerked in surprise and nearly fell off the ladder. She whipped around, ready to shout at whomever had picked that moment to startle her and halted mid-breath. "Captain Lex." Sharah left her task and slid down the ladder, dusting off her hands as she went down the walk to greet him. "What are you doing here? And what are you wearing?" Not a hesitation, not a tell, not a sign that she had expected to see him here and in an Anvil captain's uniform.

Hieronymus Lex, stout and true, stood straighter and replied, "I was reassigned here from the Imperial City to be captain of the Anvil City Watch."

Sharah smiled, "Congratulations!" After a moment of silence she cocked her head, "Not congratulations?"

Lex's usual demeanor faltered, "My reassignment is outrageous. All my work, everything I've done and the Gray Fox still has his way in the end."

Sharah asked, "The Gray Fox? What does he have to do with anything?"

Captain Lex replied, "He's behind my transfer. I know it. He finally got fed up with my interference on the Waterfront and had me moved across the province. What better way to get me out of his territory?"

Sharah didn't feel bothered that Lex attributed his transfer to the Gray Fox. In fact, she was only too happy to let the Fox take the blame for her actions. He was a regular scape goat. "Lex, you don't know that—"

The old fire came into his eyes. "How else would I end up here?", he demanded.

"Because you earned it," she told him. "You were the best captain they had in the capital. Of course Anvil would want you if they had a choice. And…maybe this is a good thing. Look, Lex…Captain. I don't know if the Gray Fox had any part in you being reassigned. But the only spot on your record in the Imperial City was your…exuberant pursuit of the Fox. You don't have that here. Or at least not yet."

He glared at her, "So you think I should give up and let that thief do what he wants with me?"

Sharah sighed, "No, of course not. I'm just saying…look at what you have before you start rocking the boat." She saw a hint of recognition. Just a small sign of her words taking root, even if his expression remained hard. It was enough that he would think on that. And hopefully one day accept his new place with some zeal. Sharah really wanted him to do well here.

Captain Lex recovered his pleasantries enough to ask, "So, what brings you to Anvil?"

Sharah threw her hand gleefully out toward the manor, "Fixing up my new house."

He looked the building over, "You bought this?"

She grinned, "You thought I was gonna live on the Waterfront all my life? Besides, this was being offered so cheap I just had to jump on it. Although you'll never guess why the price was so low."

Before Hieronymus could ask, a guardsman came running up the street to the captain, completely out of breath, "Captain Lex…the docks…massacre!"

The man had barely gasped out the words and Lex was off at a run. Sharah took a split moment to snatch up Chillrend off her porch and went after him. Lex glanced over at her briefly when she caught up and kept pace, but said nothing as they ran together toward the docks. A crowd was already gathered and milling around on the dock, looking past a line of guards at a particular ship. The Serpent's Wake. Sharah almost groaned. It had to be the one that was coming in with her stuff, didn't it?

Lex quickly went about doing…his job. The guards had already set up a perimeter, but Lex took over and was quickly organizing them in a better fashion about it. Sharah watched him, kind of admiring how he could take charge so easily, when a particularly distressed Altmer woman seated on a crate nearby caught her eye. The mer woman looked positively traumatized and no one else seemed to have noticed her as the ship was still the center of attention.

Sharah's maternal instinct lifted its head and she walked over, "Are you alright?"

The Altmer was trembling like a leaf, holding her arms tightly around herself, "Dead. They're all dead. I saw them. Just ripped open…blood, everywhere."

Sharah reached out and gingerly patted her shoulder, afraid to set the woman off with a touch intended to comfort, "I'm sorry. But you're alright. Everything is going to be fine." Lex looked to have things well in hand. The citizens were being moved back and they were already scouring the ship's deck and assembling a team to go inside.

The mer woman was still speaking, "It was…horrible. I've never seen anything…and then they attacked me."

Sharah's attention was abruptly brought fully to the woman, "Who attacked you?"

"The spirits of the crew. Someone murdered them…horribly! And their spirits are still on the ship. I barely escaped."

Sharah looked back at the dock and saw Lex choosing men to go below deck. He couldn't know what was waiting down there. She rushed forward, weaving like water through the crowd to reach the man, "Lex…Captain, you can't let your men go in there."

He took note of her coming out of the perimeter and frowned, his official's bearing returned, "You need to step back and let us do our jobs."

When a guard made to push her to the perimeter, she shoved him back, "There are wraiths onboard."

That stopped everyone within hearing distance in their tracks, guard and civilian. Lex recognized the potential for a panic and beckoned Sharah forward. In a hushed tone he asked, "How do you know that?"

Sharah indicated the mer woman as inconspicuously as possible, "She saw them. They attacked her before she got away." The onlookers might not have been able to hear her anymore, but there were plenty of guards still close by and many were getting uneasy. Guardsmen were normally faced with bandit raids and drunken brawls in the line of their duties. Wraiths and the undead were not something they dealt with often. Sharah didn't even hesitate, "Let me help. I probably have more experience with the undead than most of these men. I'll help clear the wraiths so you can do your work."

One of the braver guards said, "Captain…maybe it would help to have some additional help with this…situation."

Sharah laid her hand on the pommel of her sword, all business. Even though she despised the undead, the fact remained… "This is what I do."

Lex hesitated for a moment. But he must have seen enough uncertainty in his men to decide on his course, "Alight. But not alone. Langley, Arius, go with her."

Sharah trotted up the boardwalk with the two guards in tow. She actually knew that the older one had been the former captain of the guard. The one that the Countess had wanted replaced. Hopefully he'd be more useful on the force than he'd been in an authority position.

XXX

Sharah the Wolf and the two guards went below deck of the Serpent's Wake. Most of the rest of the guards retreated to the dock. Only the bravest stayed on deck, ready in case the warrior and men came up with wraiths right behind them. Back at the crowd of civilians, a Redguard pushed his way to the front. "What's happening?" he asked.

One of the guards answered, "There is a situation on the Serpent's Wake. Please remain behind the perimeter."

"I'm of the Fighters Guild. Can we offer assistance?"

Captain Lex was near enough to hear and responded, "No. We already have one civilian involved. We don't need any more."

The Redguard acknowledged the decision, but smiled and said to himself, "Citizen? Two guesses who that might me."

A Dunmer woman appeared at his shoulder, "Rhano, what's happening?"

He replied to her, "The Wolf is at it again."

Upon hearing the name, Lex perked up and shifted his attention to them, "You know her?"

Rhano nodded, "Of course. She's Fighters Guild, and I'm responsible for the local chapter. May I ask what exactly you've sent her into?"

Lex put him straight, "I didn't send her anywhere. She…insisted."

Rhano actually laughed, "Sounds like her. In fact, I doubt you could have stopped her."

There was a sound from within the ship that drew everyone's rapt attention. But as the silence afterward stretched on, talk cropped up again. The Dunmer woman leaned toward her companion, "There's still time to change your bid."

"Why?"

"Well, she bought a house in town. And she's getting involved with the guard."

Rhano shook his head, "Llensi, that doesn't mean a thing. Trust me when I tell you that she'll be out before the end of the week."

With the situation holding, Lex had taken to listening to their conversation. "What's this about?" his curiosity compelled him to ask.

The Redguard hesitated and then shrugged, "Just a Guild thing we do for fun. When Sharah shows up in town, we put together a pot and take bets on when she'll be out on the road again. It usually depends on the sorts of contracts she has. But the Wolf doesn't usually stay anywhere more than a month. Just be glad she was here when this happened. You'll be hard pressed to find a better fighter."

The Dunmer, Llensi, asked, "So what is she doing in there?"

Captain Lex kept his sense of authority, "Assisting the guard in securing the ship. We'll know more about the situation when they return and we can begin our investigation."

As if on cue, the deck's door opened and the three who'd gone inside reemerged into the daylight. Langley was supporting a rather pale Arius while Sharah walked straight and resolute, looking for all the world like she did this every day. And they appeared unhurt. Sharah picked Lex out and went to him immediately, "The spirits have been removed. Nine victims, captain included. No survivors. Someone really went at them. Not the worst I've seen. But certainly one of."

Captain Lex looked at the other two, a little concerned for Arius's state, "Did something happen in there?"

Sharah glanced back as the soldier was carefully lowered onto a crate, "No…well, yes. Arius wasn't quite ready for what we found. He…uh…may have left some sick near the mid deck ladder. No injuries from the wraiths, though. And whoever you have investigating should probably have a strong stomach."

Captain Lex nodded to her, "I'll take things from here. And…thank you." The time she'd spent below deck had given him a short time to think. Just enough to kindle a slight suspicion as to how Sharah the Wolf was so often present during events he attributed to the Gray Fox and the Thieves Guild. But only a bit. Seeing her now, sought in the face of death and battle, she could not be a thief. Or even in league with thieves. And so he cast the suspicion from his mind. And, when he had more time to lend to his thoughts, Lex might yet consider the Wolf's earlier advice to him.

Sharah grinned at him, "Any time. Truly." Then she trotted down the boardwalk and into the crowd.

Rhano and Llensi followed to intercept and doubtless question her on what had happened on board. But Lex caught Rhano's comment to Llensi before they all disappeared from view, "Yeah, that's the Wolf."

**Yup, that's the Wolf. And Lex is left none the wiser. Finally we can get back to some degree of normal...yeah right.**


End file.
